Losing One’s Head: A Roseman Tale

There wasn’t much use in trying to dance around the issue; there really was no excuse for it.  Watchman Barns was on the carpet for the second time in a month.  This time he had really done it, however.

He squirmed a bit in anticipation of what was going to come next, despite the fact that he was supposed to be standing at attention.

The desk sergeant eyed him disapprovingly, and shook his dismissively.

A loud barking voice came from the inner office, “Barns! Enter.”

Watchman Barns tugged on the bottom of his jerkin to straighten it, and opened the door and stepped in smartly and stood before Inspector Cruikshank’s desk.

“Barns, you are the sorriest excuse for a watchman I have ever seen,” his superior bellowed, his face turning an incredible reddish hue.

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir,” the young watchman squeaked.

“It was one thing when you lost your truncheon,” the inspector roared. “That was a rookie mistake, and I don’t want to hear about it turning up again Madame LuLu’s place.”

“Sorry,” Barns again stammered.

“This time. . . this time . . . . How in the hells did you manage to break the head off of the King’s statue in the market square?” The inspector demanded.

“Well sir, I was trying to show a couple of lads how to use a quarterstaff, and it just kind of happened,” the man whimpered.

“Get out, of my office before I do something you’ll regret,” Cruikshank exploded.

Barns quickly executed an about face, and fled the office before his superior could say another word.  He knew this wasn’t going to be over soon, and he foresaw some long, rainy night-shifts in his future.

Padre

Secret Keepers Weekly Writing Prompt #176 

5) Words: | DANCE | INNER | BREAK | HUE | LOST |