Two Short Shorts

SNOW

I watched through a crack in the curtains. Hiding was probably unnecessary. There were eyes in many of the windows around the square, but the guards took no notice. They were the arms of the law, the fingers. What others saw or thought did not matter.

And if he happened to run, well then, even better for the guards.

If it were me, I thought, that's how I would do it.

I knew the leader would do something to break the prisoner. I knew he was becoming furious. His fury emanated from him like heat off a red coal.

Now it was up to the leader. At this point he had unlimited powers, as was necessary. He said something and the other two reached for the prisoner. They loosened his waistband and he glanced down quickly, showing the first signs of panic.

With a word to the guards, the leader crouched down and began, almost playfully, to collect a pile of snow. He pretended to be enjoying himself, or perhaps he was not pretending. He said something and then he scooped up the snow and slowly shoved it down the prisoner's pants.

Now they were all working on the prisoner. The guards packed handfuls of snow down his pants and the leader pressed it against his crotch. My own testicles crept into my body.

There was a sound in the room. It was nothing, but it made me realise I was standing in my chambers, not sitting in the snow, in the middle of the square. I turned from the window, ashamed for having watched.

I sighed and moved toward my desk. I wanted to sit, but I could not. Then there was a knock at the door.

The door opened and the leader stepped forward. He saluted me. I nodded slightly and held out my hand.

"Your honour," he said, holding out the directives.

"Thank you," I said. "Dismissed."

A SPOT OF BOTHER

It didn't work. Kepperman had seen him. There he stood, just to the right of his desk.

Kepperman's fingers rested on the edge of Beringer's desk.

As Kepperman walked away Beringer turned to look at him. Kepperman moved slowly, like a huge cruise ship near the shore. He was all shoulders. From where Beringer sat he could barely see Kepperman's head.

It was a beautiful day, sunny and cool, but it was especially cool in this dead-end alley.

It had shut behind him and there was no handle on the outside. Instead of picking up a bag, he went over and tried to pull it open by wedging the tips of his fingers into the crack. He had no luck. The door was very heavy and for all he knew the latch had even clicked on the other side.

On his left was a pile of cardboard boxes. As he passed, a few of the boxes fell and rolled into his path.

"Don't go," he told Beringer. "It's too bright now. Those people walking by will spot you. You must stay here until it is dark, and even then you must be very careful."

"In there?" The man pointed toward Beringer's office. "Who are you kidding? Not me. Surely not yourself."

The man sat up a little, leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. "Listen," he said, talking with his hands, which made him seem more youthful. "I understand. I used to work there myself, a while ago. I sabotaged myself too. I once left the lid up on the garbage bin. There was a man named Kepperman then. I suppose he's still there."

"Old Kepper finally pushed you too far, did he? You're furious at him. That's why you locked yourself out."

"Mainly you are lonely, though, aren't you," said the man, whom Beringer had now recognized as the missing janitor. "What's your name?"

"How many people can you talk to, Beringer? I mean really talk to."

The janitor shook his head. "Your wife? What do you say? Come on. Nothing."

"Forget about it," called the janitor. "Settle in. You're here now."

The janitor leaned against the wall with a wise look. "Who do you think locked the door, Beringer? You may have let it close, but it doesn't stay shut unless locked from the inside."

The janitor reached out to him. "Come, take my hand, sit down beside me. Tell me, what is your real name?

"Joshua, come here. I'll make a little place for you beside this old box. Now tell me. You closed that door yourself, didn't you?"

The janitor patted him on the shoulder. "There you go! I knew it!"

The janitor patted his shoulder again and even squeezed his arm. "Tonight we'll sneak home. When we come back tomorrow morning, they'll have hardly noticed we were gone."

The janitor laughed. "Of course. Only in our dreams are there any other possibilities. But for now, rest your head on that little flap and don't worry. I'll let you know when it's safe to go."

Tom Abray