Saturday, 16 February 2013


The white temple of Asda.
A tiled walkway parallel with the tills.
Everywhere, Asda green. Stairs leading to a café.
When a streak of steel grey hair, moustache like a wire brush,
denim shirt bulging with the shape of a substantial stomach
came heaving and panting towards me. Two security guards in pursuit.
They were on him in seconds, each locking an arm under his armpits.
'You've got no chance mate' one of the guards said through clenched
teeth that were as white as his shirt. Packets started to fall from the man's shirt
as he kicked and struggled like a fly in a web. Red boxes of vitamin supplements,
a dispenser containing some kind of alternative to sugar and a low energy light-bulb.
The man closed his eyes in defeat as he was frogmarched into an office.
An electric toothbrush fell to the floor as the door closed.
When the office door closed, two policemen arrived.
A police van waited at the entrance. The back door was open.
A meshed pen fit for a dog.

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