Post by Irvine on Jul 21, 2017 6:52:11 GMT -5
What a world that we live in, the retired wrestler asked himself with the ragged, tired look on his face. The world that he lived in shared the same sort of beauties in his dreams. Beauties that he once convinced that was never real came real with his very eyes. Who would’ve figured that among all the human’s marvel and their numerical wonder of the world. A little bit of dirt, well- placed green and daises and trees would turn the steely urban into a little slice of Eden. It was a long narrow stretch of garden with a couple of benches and statue that houses a strip of concrete for concerned men and women spoiling their footwear undesirable terrain that the field produces after one or two weathers.
The spot of scenery was enriched by a sunshine hailing inconspicuously high above him, far enough to not think too much of it and the gentle breeze, courtesy of the sea half mile from where he sits. The audible rumble of engine from the traffic was faint, but not enough to drown the vibrant laugh of lovers cuddling in their brief respite. Irvine couldn’t help but spy on them once every so often, but only the patches of colourful flower beds and Victorian era terraced houses flanking the long garden. How long does he have for his evening work of being a guest at the local wrestling he wonders?
Six hours. Six hours and not a single thing to waste his time on. Hell, not even the delicious milkshake could help pass the time – delicious though. He was pleased with the choice of crushed chocolate biscuits and banana blended with the ice cream. The shopping district was a short walk away, but the road was elevated and tough for a fragile man like Irvine.
But here – here was serene and the children laughing on the greens brightened his spirits. Even his smile - once sinister and heelish – now sincere and bright.
Six hours he thought. The time was so long and there’s so much to do, but there’s so little that he could actively commit to. He reached down to his pocket of his open zipped hoodie and his smart phone slipped into view.
No messages, but his soul failed to deflate. The gentle heat from the sun and the gentle zephyr kept him lifted. All he wanted to do was to sit there, drowning the background noise with the soft slurp of his milkshake along with the audible laughter of children and lovers as he witnesses the garden of peace.
Mind you. The retired wrestler had a little too much helping for peace.
[443]
The spot of scenery was enriched by a sunshine hailing inconspicuously high above him, far enough to not think too much of it and the gentle breeze, courtesy of the sea half mile from where he sits. The audible rumble of engine from the traffic was faint, but not enough to drown the vibrant laugh of lovers cuddling in their brief respite. Irvine couldn’t help but spy on them once every so often, but only the patches of colourful flower beds and Victorian era terraced houses flanking the long garden. How long does he have for his evening work of being a guest at the local wrestling he wonders?
Six hours. Six hours and not a single thing to waste his time on. Hell, not even the delicious milkshake could help pass the time – delicious though. He was pleased with the choice of crushed chocolate biscuits and banana blended with the ice cream. The shopping district was a short walk away, but the road was elevated and tough for a fragile man like Irvine.
But here – here was serene and the children laughing on the greens brightened his spirits. Even his smile - once sinister and heelish – now sincere and bright.
Six hours he thought. The time was so long and there’s so much to do, but there’s so little that he could actively commit to. He reached down to his pocket of his open zipped hoodie and his smart phone slipped into view.
No messages, but his soul failed to deflate. The gentle heat from the sun and the gentle zephyr kept him lifted. All he wanted to do was to sit there, drowning the background noise with the soft slurp of his milkshake along with the audible laughter of children and lovers as he witnesses the garden of peace.
Mind you. The retired wrestler had a little too much helping for peace.
[443]
