Edited by Neil Anderson, Saturday, 31 Dec 2011, 23:34
I was still drunk enough to be pissed-rightousness, but I was sobering-up enough to realize that I had a problem here.
The four of us were hand-cuffed together inside what, at first-blanch, seemed like a plastic box in what seemed like a cop station. At second-blanch that was exactly what it was.
I was desperate for a glass of water.
Cops were going about their business. Inside their room, outside our box. They paid us little attention. I decided to do as little as possible to attract their attention. Because somewheres in my immediate past I'd done just that.
I was the right-end of our chain of convicts; the boy on the left-end had had slipped onto the floor, comatose. The middles weren't saying much, they were staring at whatever distance they could currently see.
I couldn't see me, but they looked bad.
At worst we were facing breech, but this was Glasgow. For once my nice, middle-class, morningside-boy, accent wasn't going to cut it.
novel #4
I was still drunk enough to be pissed-rightousness, but I was sobering-up enough to realize that I had a problem here.
The four of us were hand-cuffed together inside what, at first-blanch, seemed like a plastic box in what seemed like a cop station. At second-blanch that was exactly what it was.
I was desperate for a glass of water.
Cops were going about their business. Inside their room, outside our box. They paid us little attention. I decided to do as little as possible to attract their attention. Because somewheres in my immediate past I'd done just that.
I was the right-end of our chain of convicts; the boy on the left-end had had slipped onto the floor, comatose. The middles weren't saying much, they were staring at whatever distance they could currently see.
I couldn't see me, but they looked bad.
At worst we were facing breech, but this was Glasgow. For once my nice, middle-class, morningside-boy, accent wasn't going to cut it.