Write about: the burglar.
Kat is still dealing with the lingering effects of her cold, so I spent most of today with Max. I had a little time to myself this morning, which was mostly used to get caught up on comments once more.
This evening I went into Penticton to get some groceries and brought my camera along to try out some night photography. Didn't end up taking all that many pictures, but I like this one:
Will have to go out with a plan of things I want to shoot next time, as finding good vantage points was a bit difficult in the dark. It was fun though, especially the part where I felt like anybody watching me would think I'm up to no good.
Dressing in an all black outfit probably didn't help.
Mine:
He's out there,
Tiptoeing through the night,
Intent on staying
Forever out of sight.
But the dogs
Are howling on his trail,
Leading angry men
Who do not care for jail.
In their arms
They carry justice of sorts:
Guns, bludgeons,
Things frowned upon by courts.
He's out there,
Knowing he can't be caught,
Using the tricks
That his old man had taught.
And all along,
From shadows he knows so well,
Death watches,
Ready to drag him back to hell.
4 comments:
Jo was very, very good at her job, burgling houses. Not quite as good as Chris and Emily at their height, but still very good. She didn't know it yet, but that tiny bit she was lacking was putting her in danger. Because, you see, the bit she was lacking was the bit that kept Chris and Emily from ever being tracked home. Someone had followed Jo home last night. And that someone had ratted her out to both Detective Wilkes and Mr. Big's second-in-command. Now they were looking for her.
Robin Hood and Little John walked through the city, scouring the security, looking for their pray. Robin was a tall blonde with nothing criminal about her save the way her long legs looked in her high-wasted jean shorts. John was stout and rough skinned from working outside most of his life, so much so that he was closer in appearance to a potato than an actual man.
One look at the pair would cause many heads to cock in silent question. What these many heads didn’t understand was that Robin and John weren’t lovers—at least not in the typical use of the word. They were lovers of intrigue, of challenge. They loved planning and executing those brilliantly laid thoughts. But most of all, they loved to be philanthropic.
And what was more philanthropic than helping their poor little selves by stealing from those bad rich banks?
I do like that picture! And it sounds like you're almost all recovered from the cold now, so that's good news too!
Great poem this time; I rather like the ominous tone, especially as it gets towards the last verse. Excellent work!
I'm in Porto at the moment for work and it seems that I've spent the entirety of yesterday having to book a room and then call the UK from it because people don't want to work without constant supervision, so it's turning out to be a tough trip. Sorry for the shortness of my writing today :(
The burglar
Charles Asciugimento, Head of Building Security, looked at the man in the black hoodie, black balaclave and black jeans. He had a camera slung casually around his neck, and a small pry-bar in his hand.
"Taking pictures?" said Charles, his voice low, nearly a whisper. "In my building?"
The man in black shook his hand, but it was futile. The pry-bar had been coated in quick-drying adhesive before being given to him.
"Delivering chocolates," he said. "Seriously, I got the wrong place. I wanted the apartment block next door."
Charles's smile was thin-lipped and humourless. "Yes, you definitely got the wrong place," he said. "But you didn't have any chocolates on you when we caught you."
"I ate them?"
Charles's grin widened, but it was the snarl of the tiger.
"And now you're abseiling to burn the calories off!"
"I don't have a rope," said the man, and Charles handed him a coil of rope, one end frayed and snapped. "Oh."
"Oh," said Charles, and pushed.
Morganna - ah, the ever evolving tale of Chris and Emily. Such great fun :)
Ivybennet - hah, great lead up to that final line, which delivers perfectly.
Greg - ugh, I hope things make a turn for the better for you, sooner than later!
Ah, good old Charles. Ever the resourceful man, isn't he?
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