… and his impatience brewing in the air around us.
Writing prompt courtesy of William Boyd’s The Blue Afternoon, my current read.
The morning started slowly, brain sluggish. It was Sunday, the one day of the week when teenagers didn’t have to be forced out of bed, breakfasts gulped, lunches packed and sports gear picked out of the laundry basket (clean) to be scrunched into bags. He was home too, not already bumper to bumper on the M4 driving east into the rising sun. He was up though. From my half-awake position in bed, I could hear the murmur of the radio in the kitchen and smell coffee wafting on the air like a temptress’s pouting mouth.
I rolled over, wondering if this was going to be a breakfast in bed Sunday or whether I should encourage my lazy body downstairs and start the day.
Sun shone through the slats of the shutters. The forecast was for dry, mild weather. A walk in the autumnal woods beckoned like Ulysses’ sirens.
Deciding the sun was too good to waste, I slipped from under the covers, shrugged on yesterday’s clothes and let my nose lead me to the coffee. In the kitchen, he stood by the toaster, butter and marmalade at the ready. He glanced up, smiled, said he was going to bring it up to me, I deserved the lie-in, but here I was dressed already. Why would that be, he asked with a smirk, and gestured to the corner, just as the toast popped.
I laughed. Of course, it hadn’t only been the call of the coffee which drew me down.
The dog hauled his old bones from his bed, tail wagging. I gave him a pat, poured the coffee, bit off a piece of toast. I could sense his excitement and his impatience brewing in the air around us. I looked out the window at the gleaming brightness. Come on then, boy, let’s get some air. Walk time.
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I looked at him closely and could sense his excitement and impatience brewing in anticipation of the coming challenge.
Rick was an elite athlete, a superb specimen of a man – but, when it came to any kind of confrontation, he could never contain himself.
And this was certainly no different. A dare to run to the top of the Empire State building – all 99 floors.
Rick didn’t want to just complete the challenge. Among the hundreds of eager participants in this annual event, he wanted to be the first to reach the top.
His anxiety was palpable, his jaw set in grim determination.
“Take it easy,” I muttered softly. “Remember, it’s an endurance race – not a sprint.”
He looked at me, not really hearing. I had seen it all before – the sweaty palms, the rapid heartbeat, the anxious running on the spot – he didn’t seem to be able to control any of it until the event began.
Like many of his fellow competitors, Rick was a bundle of nerves until the starter’s gun sounded.
Then he was fine, striding forth in a smooth motion that devoured all before him, an aura of almost beatific calm descending upon his being.
The Empire State challenge was no different and the hubbub as the athletes crowded into the entrance foyer was indescribable.
A loud hailer silenced the mob as the official in charge went over the rules.
“No pushing or shoving, no tripping, in fact no physical violence of any kind is allowed during the climb or you will be disqualified,” he bellowed.
I could hear impatient mutterings from the assembled multitude, all anxious to begin.
“Ok,” he yelled. “On your marks….set….go!!”
The rush of humanity was overwhelming. Many of the athletes fell before they even reached the stairs and then gingerly picked themselves up as they raced to catch their fellow runners.
I quickly lost sight of Rick, smothered in the crush, and could only assume he had somehow survived the first onslaught.
Several hours elapsed before I heard what happened from one of the medics. Rick had been trodden on by several of his fellows but, despite a badly twisted ankle, somehow managed to work his towards the front of the horde.
Unfortunately, he fell at the final hurdle and watched in total anguish as a local runner twice his age took the coveted prize.
Ha ha – poor Rick
Written like a true dog lover! LOL
Yup