They wanted to steal my very last pastry
I could still hear the cops behind me. The well trained police force of something up in northern Sweden turned out to have more power in their vocal chords than in their feet. I knew the terrain by heart and even I had trouble running between the pines, leaping over the creeks, avoiding the pockets of air underneath the moss under my soles. I’m a tall guy and I’m skinny as hell. My blue jeans and my black hoodie where by this point already torn by the branches and so where my hands and face. I’d pulled the hoodie over my head to protect my neck, and yes I did come to think of the rap song as I did it. I had the song in my head hyping me up enough to take a leap over an ants nest.
In my left hand I was carrying the battery charger belonging to the Android phone in its original box I was carrying in my right. Those two things where all I had time to grab when the cops entered my front yard. I didn’t even have to break a window like in the movies. I simply grabbed the box, the charger, opened the window in the back and took off through the woods from the backside of my house.
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