The rain falling from the slate sky hammered against the window, melting the world beyond. Struggling against a natural feeling of despair, Dr Selwyn stared down at the floor instead, losing himself in the details of the pattern in the hand-woven chocolate and hot orange carpet.
Positive thought was not possible now. It had crumbled away like old mortar and the grey, twisting streets seemed to have turned into a maze that he had become lost in, despite his strenuous efforts. He felt like he was at the end of his day and there was no hope left now.
He raised his eyes and gazed at the dark hillside above the town. Doctor Selwyn was staring into the abyss and the abyss stared back into him. It was only when it smiled and waved that he collapsed in a heap on the deep-pile carpet.
MARK HOWARD JONES WE WEREN’T INTERESTED IN GIRLS
We weren‟t interested in girls; we just wanted to play football. Whilst the rest of the boys in our year were out shagging, or at least claiming to be, we were on the hunt for makeshift goal posts; the bins round the back of the school, two saplings planted up in the park, the garage doors at the top of Tirpenry Street. Sometimes we‟d break into the Astroturf, although the security guards soon put paid to that. Every night, without fail, the five of us would be outside with a ball, scoring goals and making saves. Then, one summer, I left them and went off with her. Soon after, they all got girlfriends too. We‟d still meet up and play football sometimes, but it wasn‟t the same. We‟d let our boyish defences down, and adulthood had crept in at the back post.
LUNCH AT THE COFFEE SHOP
On your lunch break I meet you at the coffee shop. We sit upstairs at our usual table. The waitress brings over two bowls of pasta, one without grated cheese. I try yours. It tastes better than mine. Conversation soon turns to divorce – you tell me your parents will begin proceedings next month. My father left my mother too. I joke about how our children, should we have any, will be spoilt by four sets of Grandparents. You laugh; say the odds are against us. I agree. The waitress collects our empty bowls and you leave for work. I stay sat at our usual table until the milk separates and my coffee goes cold.
RHYS OWAIN WILLIAMS 9
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