Wednesday, 14 August 2013

The Grin...

Chris shot upwards in his bed, sweat dripping off his brow, heart pounding with such a pace he feared it may jump out of his chest. He leant across to his side cabinet and silenced the alarm clock before looking around the room, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to focus better in the half-light. He paused momentarily on the super-hero costume that hung on the wardrobe door. Chris drew a deep breath and dropped his legs heavily out the side of his bed before shuffling his feet into his slippers, wiggling his toes in an attempt to warm them through. He glanced at the alarm clock once again as if hopeful it had made a mistake and he could return to his slumber.

Outside the rain continued to lash down aggressively and the wind whirled around, rattling the branches of a tree on the window.

'Beep, beep - beep, beep'. An incoming text. It was Dyer. 'You up yet, gaffer?'.

Chris stared intently at the words, allowing them to dissolve and disappear as he drifted deep into thought. Once again he glanced over at the wardrobe and that costume. It hung gently now, but when worn it weighed heavy.

'Beep, beep - beep, beep'. Dyer again. 'Gaffer, the boys are turning up. It's bloody pissing it down. When you getting here? How long you gonna be?'.

Slowly Chris began walking towards the dressing table. He sat down and stared deeply into the mirror. Placing both hands on either side of it, and lifting it gently to his face, he began applying his huge grin, manoeuvring it into position carefully. It sparkled magnificently. The corners of his mouth rose high across his face and his pearly white teeth shone in the half-light. He stood up again and walked over to the wardrobe, lifting the disheveled fabric of his costume off the hanger. Left peg in first. Always left peg first. That was his strongest, after all. Tradition. Tradition. Tradition.

Outside the rain and wind began to calm and the branches retreated. Blue sky began pushing through the grim, grey sky. The birds began to sing joyously.

Mrs. P turned in the bed, peaked out from beneath the sheets and smiled lovingly at Chris. "Go get 'em, champ", she said full of hope. Chris never replied, but simply turned on his heels and left the bedroom, puffing out his chest as he powered across the landing; his cape flapping behind him. 

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