I'm hell bent on a mission to break my body by playing so many sports that my skeletal frame will crack and that I will become nothing more than a light brown blob on the floor with dark hair hoping people don't tread on me. It started last Monday when I played squash at lunch time, the relentless pace and instinctive movement required left my muscles shaking involuntary as I sat down after lunch but I considered it worth it because I won even though I dropped my baguette numerous times because my arms kept twitching. The next day I played tennis which I hadn't played in about 10 years so knowing I'd lose because of this I brought my old wooden racket and wore a head band to create a Borg complexion and intimidate my opponent. However after being hit hard by a tennis ball on the thigh by my opponent who couldn't help but snigger as I crumpled on the floor wobbling a bit I decided to ditch the comical facade and give him a match full of my competitive venom. I lost. But I still think it's because I hadn't played for 10 years and aim for a rematch. On Wednesday I was dragged into a 6-a-side cricket match because they were one short, this was more of a relaxing activity as it required me to stand still and launch the ball at every opportunity. On the Thursday I tried out touch rugby (I'm not buff enough for the real thing) which I'd never done before and found it really enjoyable. It's basically playing 'tig' with a ball, if you're touched you need to release it. By now my body was creaking by lack of rest and fluid so on Friday I didn't do any sports and rested as all the past weeks activities caught up with me by experiencing episodes of cramp in my legs. On Monday I started the lunch time off with another game of squash and as the little ball bounced off the wall I couldn't help but think what the hell am I doing playing sport so much. Luckily, it's been raining most of this week so I've got an excuse not to play so many games as it's seriously screwing me up.
Here's some more prose to add to all the others.
Here's some more prose to add to all the others.
************************************************
The alarm’s sound pulsated around the room as an arm rose up and tried feebly to press down of the snooze button. The sweaty thumb rubbed on the button but failed to put enough pressure to push it down. Instead it slid away causing the alarm to fall off the bed slide of the bedside table and crash onto the floor with the speaker facing upwards towards the bed. Yannish could bear no longer the whirring sounds coming from the alarm he heaved himself from his bed by rolling himself onto the floor wrapping himself round and round in the bed sheet, wriggling like Houdini making an escape.
“Can’t believe it’s 7am already.” He whimpered to himself as he finally managed to press the snooze button on the clock. He picked himself and watched all the old cigarette butts come unstuck from his knee from where he landed on his ash tray. He got up and made his way to the bathroom to do the usual morning routine walking along the landing where a butt was still become visible every time he raised his heel. After getting changed, slamming two slices of toast into the toaster he quickly ran back up to search for his college bag, grabbing it from amongst the pile of clothes in his room. The toast popped up and was deftly picked up buttered and ate as he shut the door crunching at the precise moment he slammed it shut as to muffle the noise and then head off to college.
Tethelforth College was an old looking Victorian building which was scarred with contemporary restoration so that its majestic presence was less prominent now that the new art deco offices had been rebuilt and grey bricks had been chosen to clash with the dusky red, it looked like an IKEA shop had set up business there. The place was named after an alleged local philanthropist who had gained a fortune in lace making. Mr Clive Tethelforth Jr was not known for his lace making abilities even though his family were all in the industry. Tethelforth Jr was more concerned with plundering his fathers savings down the public house where inebriation, a pinch of the bar maid’s backside and urinating on a lamp post with out being caught by the police was considered a good night.
“Did you hear here squeal, Treggers as I grabbed her from behind?” shouted Tethelforth as he finished up urinating on the high street lamp post and also his leather shoes making wavy patterns on them and making the leather go a darker shade of brown. Pulling up his cotton trousers and re-attaching them to his braces he looked round to see why Treggers hadn’t responded.
“Treggers?”
“Uh, sorry, yes. I did, the wench.” came the voice of Treggers.
“It was awfully funny I wish I’d done it again. Well I’d better get back we’ve got some French au pairs staying with us to look after my brother. If I get in too late I might scare them and then they’d be hell to pay. Now go find me a carriage! ” said Tethelforth.
Although Tethelforth Jr was in no way gifted in the arts of lace making he was gifted in the arts of exploitation, manipulation and motivation. The tools for a great businessman and that he became after he realised that the two French au pairs were gifted in lace making but their style and design were so original that Tethelforth Jr knew straight away he could have his own thousands to plunder and quickly forced the French au pairs to teach his father’s workers how to lace the way they did when they were supposed to be putting younger brother Gordon to bed. After a while Tethelforth Jr had enough people who knew the way to copy the flair of the French lace and started up his own business to rival his father’s. With his new style of lacing he soon managed to close down all the lace makers in the region including his father’s. He didn’t care and promptly moved out. He moved back in to the house once his family could no longer pay their way and were ejected. But alas, Tethelforth just sat back on his chair, settled his pipe into his mouth and laughed as he lit it.
Tethelforth Comprehensive was built it was said after one night most of the town’s people set his factory alight enraged that Tethelforth was hiring people but refusing to pay them come wage day, especially the vulnerable children he kept recruiting. Standing in the street with his night gown flapping upwards revealing his rotund belly and more he promised that he would pay everyone he hadn’t paid and build something for the community the next day if they would stop trying to burn down his empire. And so the next day work began on Tethelforth Comprehensive, based not on the ideology of knowledge is all powerful but on the foundations that if one has enough money they can buy their way out of anything. Even build a school. It became a college in 1981 after the Conservative party had a revamp of education.
The bus journey took about 20 minutes from Yannish’s house and had only just made it to the bus stop. Today was going to be his last day at Tethelforth College as he had only his literature exam to complete and he’d be finished there forever. He strode up to the exam room sat down and waited while all the usual procedures were spoken by the teachers and then he heard the words. “You may begin” and looked at the white A4 booklet, licked his forefinger and then used it to turn the page to read “In Shakespeare’s Hamlet, is Hamlet the true personification of madness or a young man pursuing a desire, discuss.” Yannish thought he felt vessels behind his eyeballs popping as he entrenched his pen lid with his molars while he contemplated what to write on the lined paper in front of him.
No comments:
Post a Comment