Exhaustion

I haven’t really done myself any favours recently. As the seasonal cold bug starts to infect the office it is only a matter of time before you are next on its list. So on Sunday I woke up with a bit of a sore throat and the sniffles. This didn’t stop me from deciding to go for a 3 mile run which upon my return only intensified my ever growing cold. On Monday I woke up still feeling under the weather when I remembered I promised one of my work colleagues I'd play him at squash so I packed my kit begrudgingly and set off to work.

The squash game was rather intense with me prevailing 2-1 in games but not without playing so hard that when I looked at the wall I thought I saw stars. The next morning my cold was still lurking within me waiting to strike me down when I realised that I had a touch-rugby game. Once again I packed my kit thinking maybe I should take a rest. We lost the game 3-1 and I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to keep my eyes open as I looked at the computer. As I am writing this my body is completely stiff and I feel run down and it is all my fault so I’m not going to do anything else until next Tuesday when I have another touch-rugby game.

Being unable to move due to sore muscles has enabled me to write some more prose. Check it out at your leisure.

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“Yannish?”

“Yannish?”

Yannish’s opened his left eye wearily to see a dark silhouette of a man leaning over him. He could feel his head swaying from within.

“Give me that can.” Said the voice of the silhouette.

He could hear a slight struggle going on above him but finding himself unable to move he lay there. Suddenly he heard a squeal and then a can being opened and all of a sudden gushes of cold beer landing in his mouth, his eyes and up his nostrils. His immediate reaction was to lean forward so that no more beer would its way into anymore vulnerable orifices. Coughing up beer that managed to tickle his throat on his way down he squinted his eyes to see Peter standing in front of him.

“There, I knew that would rouse you. Harsh, I know, but I needed to know whether you were severely injured. Trust me, it was debated whether to waste such favoured liquid on waking you up but then Conrad pointed out that a dead body would only attract unwanted attention. And so if that was the case we’d of had to move you somewhere. With gloves of course.”

Yannish, saw Conrad and George walk into his focus. His head was rattling and the swaying in the head was still there but the sudden jolt of action had stimulated his mind again and he was beginning to gain his senses.

“Where did you find me?”

“Here stupid.” Retorted George.

“Yes, we found you laying here. In fact we believed you to be dead, it was only until I checked your pulse that I realised that you had just been knocked unconscious. So are you going to tell us what happened?” Said Conrad as he started to walk around Yannish.
What happened…what happened? Were the words rolling through Yannish’s mind. As they continued to flash past pictures of the night’s events popped into his head.

“I was running after someone. I wanted to see where they were going. I knew that if they got to the wood I wouldn’t be able to keep up with them anymore. But he turned round and I got scared so ducked. I got scared because he had a gun. Why did he have a gun?”

“I don’t know, but why were you chasing someone that had a gun?” Asked Peter, in an inquisitive tone.

“Shit. The garage. It was robbed.”

“Pardon?” said Peter.

The adrenaline flowed through his body once again as if it were a prize for remembering what had happened. Yannish started to stand up, his legs shaking but he was able to get up.

“The man, I was chasing, he robbed the garage. I’ve got to get back and see how Clarence is doing.”

The moment he thought he had died was now clear in his head. He wanted to see Clarence, see she was alright and also because he didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t like seeing that moment in his head, replaying in slow motion.

“You can’t go back there you’ve barely enough strength to walk back.” Said Conrad looking at him with some concern.

“I need to go.” And as he said that Yannish pushed himself to start walking. Very slowly he managed a few steps before his knees buckled and finds himself crumpled on the floor.

Admitting defeat, he lies back on the ground and begins to touch the source of pain. The bruise is bubbling nicely on his forehead and when touched sends an excruciating jolt of anguish through him.

“Did you guys, hear a gun shot? There was a shot from the garage. He didn’t want to kill us, he wanted to terrify us. Make sure we were broken humans, our spirits snapped or at least stretched to breaking point. The fucker.”

“Look what you need is to go to the hospital.” We can help you get you there.

“No, I want to go back to the garage, I want to see Clarence.” He wanted to see the garage, to see exactly what state it was in when he left. He wanted to go to the office and see the remaining bits of the safe and the table which he crashed on.

“Please, help me get back to the garage.”

“There will be police there. You know how we all feel about the law.”

“Look just help me up to the top of the heath and I’ll make me own way down there. You don’t need to worry about the police. It’s the fucking police who are likely to find this stranger, who could easily still be out there watching us all. It’s them who have the skills to catch him, catch him before he tries anything like this again.”

There was a silence.

“Ok, George help him up.”

Yannish felt weary now, it was only a ten minute walk but it seemed so very long. George was a ruthless carrier and flung him from side to side. Peter and Conrad walked behind him, he could see in both their eyes that they wanted to talk to him but respected the fact he wanted to return to the garage. Yannish himself thought it strange he craved so much to go back, he’d rather go there first than seek medical help or go home. He knew that the feeling of terror was still within him, he’d never felt so scared for his life, his life was snatched from him by this masked stranger and it was up to the clown to decide if he was to die tonight.

“That’s far enough George.” Said Yannish.

George put him back down and walked back over to Conrad and Peter.

“I’ll come back to see you three. I don’t know when as you can see I’m a bit of a state both in appearance and in mind. But we’ll chat. Thank you George for carrying my down.”

“Ok Yannish.” Said Conrad.

Yannish turned round and started to hobble his way down the heath, past the bushes until he could see blue flashing emanating from below. He followed the light, letting gravity pull him further down until he was at standing at the garage forecourt. He looked at the garage, the lights were back on and the place seemed alive full of policemen. Seeing the building like this settled him down inside again.

Sport-o-holic

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.

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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.