Game Day

You can taste winter on the air. Colors flash around you out of the corner of your eye- red, gold, maroon, navy, cloud, gold. It's 9am but you smell the meat as footballs whiz past your head. The beer racing down your throat is as cold as the day. The green of the field stretches on in front of you as the sounds of the gridiron encircle you. Your pulse races, your heart stops and you hold your breath. Sound and motion slow down. When times speeds up again you are surrounded by jubilation and utter despair.

For Paul

I was walking down a dark alley- the kind of place where people are up to no good. I was up to no good. A solitary street lamp cut a path through the shadows and from the gloom emerged a tow-headed angel of vengeance. He walked towards me, the light from the streetlamp glinting dangerously off the pizza cutter in his hand. I closed my eyes resigned to my fate. A breath..two...I could detect no movement, no disturbance in the air around me. Cautiously I opened my eyes to find a 10-year-old boy with an impish grin. "What do you want to watch on tv now Chris?".