Odd Scent
‘’Inmate number, please.’’
‘’Uhm, yes, right, hello, I’m here for visitation.’’
‘’Inmate number, please’’
‘’Right, of course, it’s uhm… 5683.’’
‘’Step through to your left, sir.’’
‘’What did I do?’’
‘’Belt?’’
‘’No, ma’am.’’
‘’Staples, screws, plates?’’
‘’Not to my knowledge.’’
‘’Through to the left once more, sir.’’
‘‘Hey listen, if today is a bad day or something I can come back another time.’’
‘’This is the only visitation of the month.’’
‘’Right, right.’’
‘’Sir, we are going to have to give you a proper search since our machine here is malfunctioning.’’
‘’I promise you I am not bringing anything illegal into this jail.’’
‘’There are a lot of legal things we don’t allow, too. That’s why you must have a proper search by Jeremy here.’’
‘’Why will you need to pat me down in a restroom?’’
‘’Not a simple pat down, sir.’’
‘’But the secretary right there at-‘’
‘’Sir, this is no longer her issue. Whatever she may have told you doesn’t matter."
‘’Of course. How foolish of me.’’
‘’Now to answer your question, Sir. When I was approaching you just a moment ago, I happened to be overwhelmed with a particularly odd scent.’’
‘’An odd scent?’’
‘’That is correct, Sir. And in the event of such an odd scent, it is standard protocol to provide a full cavity search on said subject that carries said odd scent.’’
‘’Why is the bathroom locked?’’
‘’It hasn’t been upgraded to the hydraulic electronic steel yet, Sir.’’
‘’Of course, but it will be.’’
‘’After you, sir.’’
‘’Anything worth keeping in there?’’
‘’If there is, I’m sure I would have found it by now.’’
‘’So, I’m clear for visitation then?’’
‘’Not exactly, Sir. You see it is standard protocol to check secondarily the front of said subject if said subject is overly confident after the anal investigation.’’
‘’That’s what that just was? Like CSI, right?’’
‘’This was, Sir.’’
‘’And did you say front? What the hell do you think is up there?’’
‘’That’s what frightens the finest correctional facility on the East Coast, and that’s why we have standard protocol.’’
‘’I’ll take him from here.’’
‘’Why am I still naked?’’
‘’Says here you have an odd scent.’’
Colton Adrian is twenty-two. He plays with dirt at work and writes when he's not doing that. He escaped via C-section and was birthed in Williamsburg, Virginia. He’s been there ever since and has been plotting a breakout involving a pen and a pad for the last two years. His work has appeared most recently in The Molotov Cocktail and The Buffalo Almanack.
