Immediately upon entering the classroom one day, we were given a prompt. We wrote for ten minutes about a getaway. Some people in class got very creative with the prompt. Stories of dogs getting away after eating a cake, or of leaving the apartment of a one night stand in the early morning hours. The first thing that popped into my head though was a criminal getaway. He soared over a flight of stairs. He bounced and swerved, barely righting himself again before peddling as fast as his lanky legs would allow on his kid neighbor’s prized Christmas present. He stole a quick glance behind and was startled to see the two men had managed to catch up with him again. It was especially surprising to see that the shorter one with legs as thick as 1000-year-old oak trunks had kept up.
He took a hard left sending a group of pigeons scurrying and darting out of his way. As they did the bike’s chain popped and threw him off with a jerk. He saw the glint of their badges first. He tripped to his feet as they drew closer and prayed he’d have better luck losing them without the hinderance of his poor choice of getaway vehicle.