I challenged Andrew Ian Dodge to write a story about a mime getting the crap beaten out of him because I was having a lousy day.
What do you think? Did he meet the challenge?
Maurice had been “performing” in the park next to the House of Commons all evening. He was doing all the classics.
For all his admirers there was at least 10 others who found his performance irritating. He contently cursed the philistine English under his breath as he did his bit.
Later in the evening he had a bit of bread and some wine as a late dinner. The cool river air put him to sleep.
He didn’t notice the oddly shaped men approach him. Their strength overwhelmed him as they tossed him in a sack.
The mime couldn’t cry out.
I think he did. Splendidly.