It was the first proper job he had after he changed his identity, but it suited his structured thoughts. He was an architect now, and the town he had moved to was in desperate need of a jail. Two pocket-thieves were being held in cellars and they had already escaped on multiple occasions.
He presented them with the building a month after he took the job. Forcing his men to work through most nights, he had wanted to build himself a reputation. He had to be good at this. It was his only second chance at a proper life. No one would ever escape this jail that he had so carefully sketched in his book over night.
It was the top constable who came to shake his hands. And put hand-cuffs on them. Grinning broadly, the officer said: “I hope the jail you have built will suit your needs.”
His change of identity had not been thorough enough, the architect thought, cursing himself.
© 2016
Friday Fictioneers, 15 April 2016
Photo prompt provided by Kent Bonham
FELICIA HEILGENDORFF 
Well written Felicia. That is irony, this man built his own prison. I hope he knows it’s flaws or he vas built-in some fail-safes to escape. But maybe he is a bad man and deserves to be imprisoned.
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Perhaps he will be more likely to find a way to escape that way… but I have a feeling he is a man that deserves being imprisoned, so in that case I hope he finds no flaws!
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Cute way of saying you can’t escape what you sow! Justice serced doubly! Giggle!
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Thanks! 🙂
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Generally we all build our own jails ….. at least figuratively. Loved your take on this one.
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Thank you! I suppose we do.. We’re all digging our own graves.
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I expect that he built in an escape button just in case. Liked your take on the book. Mike
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Ooh that sounds like a sneaky thing to do that he probably included in his planning. Thanks! 🙂
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