‘sluit de deur, você está deixando o frio dentro!’ The wool merchant slammed shut the door and returned to his work, his hands shaking aggressively. ‘its getting so man can’t make an honest living. I move into the forest yet somehow people find me, come knocking at my door!’ The felon tripped of his own volition, cracking his head in three places. Detective Garda Nolan Falls was heard to exclaim ‘this sort of thing happens all the time’. To which Commander Garnet Galsworthy added ‘in Swords. I can’t speak for other Districts’. The Herschel Liege pantomime troop played the Sword’s county hall the night the felon was arrested; Galsworthy and Garda Falls attending the final show of the evening. That night the wool merchant filed a grievance with the Swords Co. constabulary claiming that there were crazy hooligans larking about in his yard, two of whom were outfitted in women’s clothing. George Legnica and Albert Jawor were charged with mischief and sentenced to three months to be served in the Sword County Gaol.
The man in the hat shook his head not once, but twice, his brain unable to register what he’d just read. As it had been a long arduous day, many of his thoughts restricted to mundane things, what colour vest to wear with his tweed jacket or which knot to tie his boots with (in the past he had difficulties with his boots staying tied, the laces unraveling at the most inopportune moments, like when bending down to plant a kiss on a child’s head or rushing to make the betting window before the off-track close), he pushed his thoughts into the back of his head and continued home, the sun barracked in a canebrake of clouds over his head. The Poughkeepsie Constabulary arrested two men dressed in women’s clothing outside the Sword’s county hall; two Poughkeepsie policemen enjoying a smoke on the steps of the hall swiftly wrestling the two transgressors to the pavement. His head throbbing like a stubbed toe the man in the hat rounded the corner and headed home, the Poughkeepsie Constabulary interrogating his every thought.
The man in the hat shook his head not once, but twice, his brain unable to register what he’d just read. As it had been a long arduous day, many of his thoughts restricted to mundane things, what colour vest to wear with his tweed jacket or which knot to tie his boots with (in the past he had difficulties with his boots staying tied, the laces unraveling at the most inopportune moments, like when bending down to plant a kiss on a child’s head or rushing to make the betting window before the off-track close), he pushed his thoughts into the back of his head and continued home, the sun barracked in a canebrake of clouds over his head. The Poughkeepsie Constabulary arrested two men dressed in women’s clothing outside the Sword’s county hall; two Poughkeepsie policemen enjoying a smoke on the steps of the hall swiftly wrestling the two transgressors to the pavement. His head throbbing like a stubbed toe the man in the hat rounded the corner and headed home, the Poughkeepsie Constabulary interrogating his every thought.
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