Back of policemen in yellow vests that read Police

Photo by Daniel Tafjord on Unsplash

I closed the door, locking it behind me before tossing my keys on the table. First stop, the fridge for a beer. I had earned one for surviving a miserable day. I wanted to veg in front of the television. I kicked my shoes under the coffee table and dropped on the couch. Opening the bottle, I got a nose full of hoppy goodness and took a sip. My brother had taken up brewing beer, and this batch was good.

I must have fallen asleep. The room was dark, and a loud pounding shook the front door.

“Open the door. Come out with your hands up,” the garbled megaphone voice instructed.

“Ah, shit,” I said to the empty room.

I flipped on a light and shook my brain free from the last tendrils of sleep.

“We know you’re in there. Come out and no one gets hurt,” the megaphone voice said.

I looked around the room and considered my options. The back door led into a garage piled high with boxes. Perhaps a window might work?

“We’ve got you surrounded. Come out now.”

Defeated, I walked to the front door and flipped the lock.

“Don’t shoot,” I said and slowly opened the door.

Police lights lit the neighborhood, flashing red and blue beacons. A spotlight aimed at my face blinded me and prevented me from identifying the policemen I knew were behind all this.

“Ok assholes, now what?”

“Keep your hands over your head and step forward. Slowly,” the megaphone voice said.

I walked directly towards the light in the center of the cop circle.

“You bastards, I was asleep on the couch,” I said into the darkness.

To my right, I someone chuckle.

“Go ahead. Laugh. This isn’t funny. You’re gonna be sorry.”

I heard laughter float around the circle. I was feet from the light.

“That’s far enough. Stop there,” the megaphone voice said.

I kept walking. I could see the hand holding the spotlight and moving fast I grabbed hold, twisting the cop’s arm behind his back. I placed my index finger against his temple and yelled, “Bang.”

“Your dead Davy,” I said then released him. More laughter erupted.

The cop holding the megaphone was doubled over, laughing. When I reached him, I planted my feet and punched his shoulder with all my weight behind the blow.

“I suppose this was your idea, Watson?”

Watson rubbed his shoulder and tried to talk between snorts.

“Sorry Chief. Thought you could use a pick me up after today.”

I tried to suppress the grin I knew was threatening to explode.

“Get to work. Anyone here in five minutes receives a reprimand. You’re gonna give my neighbors heart failure,” I said in the sternest voice possible.

Police lights turned off and car doors slammed as they dispersed.


“Yes, sir?”

“Is everyone ok?”

“I think so Chief. This may have helped.”

“Fine,” I looked at Watson. No trace of fun and games remained. “Never let this happen again.”

“Yes, sir.” Watson extinguished the spotlight.

I checked my watch, “Since you’re technically off duty, why don’t you come in. Your latest brew is damn good.”


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

10 thoughts on “Surrounded

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.