situation three: the door
We finally get to the door, to the bouncer. I put on my most pathetic expression. I need to let him know that I understand how incredibly important his position is, that I recognise his power over me, that he is to me what Darth Vader is to the Empire.
The regulatory forces look me up and down like I am dirt. He lingers over my shoes. "Border line," he says, referring to my crepes.
My friends are being searched.
I’m next.
They grip me harshly, sweeping my body.
He points to my pockets.
I empty them.
He points to my shoes.
I take them off.
He points to my hat.
I remove it.
I am silent.
I am compliant.
He turns away from me.
I am through.
I walk through a sinister tunnel.
A light flashes intermittently.
I feel tense.
I’m in.
Words © Jacob 'biscuit' Whittingham 2007 (all rights reserved)
© editor@unheardwords.com 2007 (all rights reserved)
