The black door creaked open. A scrawny, brown haired, clean shaved man walked in.
Long strides and he reached the middle of the place. Taking his hands out of the pockets, he looked at his watch and then looked at the woman standing in front of him and said, 'It's now time. This, will make it or break it."
Several moments later......he emerged out of his thoughts, as if out of a fog of tension.
Eyes. Dark.
Lips . Taut.
Breath. Heavy.
Palms. Grabbing.
Neck. Stiff.
Head. Low.
Mind. Focused.
Heart. Pounding.
And there was a building roar in the surroundings, "G-O-A-L"........
And split seconds later, it died down like the string of a kite suddenly cut. His team had won after almost an array of lost matches!
Relieved, he let go the chair he was grabbing. Taking a sip from the tall glass of drink, wiping his big grin, he said to her,"Here's your cheque."
Finally! This was the beginning of a successful business diversification. The market where the gentlemen's games thrive is gonna be stale in some days. Soon, the blood frenzy medieval times would be back. One man against another. Mud and sweat. Like the gladiator arena. Peak of entertainment and of course loads of money. And he would grab it all.
"Ah! Welcome good life!"
And the moment froze.
Meanwhile, about two minutes back... in the same frame......she dived into a whirlpool of thoughts.
Not her's but his.
Eyes. Dark.
Lips . Taut.
Breath. Heavy.
Palms. Grabbing.
Neck. Stiff.
Head. Low.
Mind. Focused.
Heart. Pounding.
Finally! All these years of hard work had paid off!
Excited, she almost broke down. Her son now could go for the next level of football training. It's all about the right decisions at the right time. She breathed deeply and released the bag she was grabbing, extended her hand and took the cheque.
The coveted piece of paper. This was going to write off their misery. Forever.
Soon, her son will make it to the big leagues.
"Ah! Welcome good life!"
And the moment froze.
Meanwhile, about two minutes back...in the same frame......he emerged out of his thoughts, as if out of a fog of tension.
Eyes. Dark.
Lips . Taut.
Breath. Heavy.
Palms. Grabbing.
Neck. Stiff.
Head. Low.
Mind. Focused.
Thankful, the boy looked at the skies.
His hands still grabbing the ball. The last of the penalty shots he had stopped.
His team had won after almost an array of lost matches!
Hopefully, this was his road to fame, fortune and all of that shebang.
And walking down that road, one day, he will earn his freedom.
Finally! Freedom of making his own choices for his life.
"Ah! Welcome good life!"
And the moment froze.
