A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “ DYNASTIC PRESSURE”

Posted on Apr 21, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

“The Future” ~ Image © Copyright John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “DYNASTIC PRESSURE”
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I am still very busy working on my book, and I am up to Chapter Eighteen now. I am happy to say Marg is well and thriving.

This flash fiction prompt came up from, “Inspiration Monday,” and I thought it might be a good idea to base my response around some of the characters who feature in my novel.

Don Francisco
His two sons, Angelo and Giuseppe} ~Twin Brothers
Bella ~ their Sister.

I have to point out now, that the two men are not brothers in my novel and Bella is not their sister. However for the purposes of the thrust of my story in response to this prompt, I have used a little poetic license here.

DYNASTIC PRESSURE

by John Yeo

There were not just ripples of unease spreading throughout the family. Storm clouds were on the horizon and building up, it seemed a tremendous family storm was brewing and the various strands of the family were coming together for a very crucial meeting.

Don Francisco held the members of the Vicente family in a grip of steel, his father and his grandfather and their forefathers had kept the family together for generations. In a word he was the Godfather. The leader of a thriving dynasty.

News of a shocking diagnosis had spread, Don Francisco was dying of cancer and was not expected to survive for very long. Don Francisco had twin sons, one of whom was expected to take control of the family business. Angelo was present at the bedside of his father and Bella their sister was comforting her mother, Maria. Giuseppe was supposedly on the way but there had been no news, then Maria came rushing into the room in a distressed state.

“Papa, Papa, I have shocking news! Giuseppe is dead, he was killed by a suicide bomber, who blew himself up and killed twelve people. He just happened to be on a train, in the wrong place at the wrong time!”

Don Francisco went white with shock, speechless with horror. “Leave me please, I want to be alone with my grief.”

Bella and Angelo withdrew. Bella then turned to Angelo and said. “You will now soon be The Godfather, as Papa is dying and you are next in line. He was about to pass on the title to Giuseppe who was second-in-command, while you were away at university, studying. You will control everything now!”

“No! That is not possible Bella.” shouted Angelo, “I have been studying to become a priest, I want nothing more to do with the family business!”

“Angelo! This will destroy him, you must not tell him, what you have just told me. You must pretend to accept, and allow him to die peacefully. I will secretly take charge, to keep the family dynasty together. You will become a godfather in name only. It will be seen as a sign of weakness if we announce that our family is run by a woman. A godmother, who will be ridiculed and cursed with malice in a male controlled world.”

“So be it, my sister, for the sake of my father, I will live this lie. How will you manage?”

“Angelo, I have spent my life close to my father and I have learnt much. I have been involved in missions for my father. I have made many friends, and I expect to get married some day and my fiancée who will then be my husband will take over with your blessing, my brother. The godfather will arise from within our family and the dynasty will continue unbroken.”

‘Thank you Bella, I will love you forever my sister!”

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Peace

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A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FLOWER GRAFFITI”

Posted on Apr 12, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FLOWER GRAFFITI”
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FLOWER GRAFFITI

by John Yeo

Annabelle was a creative, artistic sensitive young woman. At art college she fell heavily in love with Dominic a fellow student who seemed to be on the same wavelength in all things. They became inseparable, and it was certain they would get through the exams together with flying colours.

They were indeed colourful, extrovert and prepared to go to any lengths to express their natural artistic talents. Dominic would draw lightning sketches of passers-by in the city centre for money, a form of busking that helped to pay the bills. Annabelle also painted and was developing a market for portraits, from among her friends and family.

Annabelle had a younger brother, Toby, a mischievous youngster who was struggling with his, A-level exams and running around with a crowd of young daredevils who would stop at nothing to get some thrills from life.

Toby, like his sister, was also artistic, but sadly he expressed his talent in a different way. Toby was a graffiti artist, specialising in painting on high office blocks and skyscrapers.

One day the group dared him to paint a huge red poppy on the twenty-seventh floor of a large office block in the city centre. A building that was the headquarters of a major European bank.

“No! I could never do that without the right equipment. I would need a window cleaning cradle and you would all have to be there to manhandle the hoist.”

“We have thought of that, we have a hoist secreted at the back of the building and we are ready to go. Tomorrow is poppy day and your art will make the front page of every national daily paper in the country! You will be famous when the truth comes out.”

Toby outrightly refused to have anything to do with this plan and later that day he confided in Dominic.

The next morning every newspaper in the country carried banner headlines that described four huge red poppies painted on the fourth floor walls of a major city office block to remember the dead in two world wars.

Dominic, Annabelle and Toby all smiled knowingly at each other, and admired their poppies from below.

Dominic laughed at Toby and said. “Height is not important. In Art it is the statement that counts!”

Peace

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PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ SAGE ADVICE

Posted on Apr 12, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

This is a latest Picture it and Write prompt from Emilia’s blog ~10th April

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Image supplied and credited by Emilia

SAGE ADVICE

by John Yeo

Look here youngster, I may be ancient, old fashioned and decrepit, but I have been along the trail and I survived. I got through the pitfalls and the side issues by trial and error, using my head and ignoring the wayside temptations.

The trail is made up of a series of stepping stones, a well worn path that is bordered by much beauty and new experiences. The waysides of the main trail can easily lead the traveller along life’s road, astray.

You are young, and you have a long way to travel.

Examine the stepping stones along life’s highway. Each is different, and has been worn in different areas. This represents the changing fortunes and broken hopes and aspirations of the journey. People leave, pass away, pass on, nothing is forever, eventually you will be travelling alone, exactly as you started. Nourish and nurture your close relationships, these will be important to you along the way. Eventually there will be nowhere else to turn to, and your closest friend will have been with you all the time, all the way.

The wayside can be an attractive place, new experiences, new excitements, new challenges. By all means youngster, stop and watch the flowers grow, there is no hurry to get to life’s next stepping-stone. Take advantage of your dynamics, take chances, but always take care of what you have, that which is important to you. Your fellow traveller, your closest and most enduring friend who cares for you and will continue to care for you every day of your life.

I know without thought, everything comes easy, the well worn path can be a boringly safe trail. There is more to life than you realise! There is no hurry to get to the end of the trail, another worn stepping stone will always be looming up on the horizon. Enjoy the journey, but take good care along the way. Smell the flowers and enjoy life’s nectar.

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FELT CASTLES”

Posted on Apr 7, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FELT CASTLES”
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FELT CASTLES

by John Yeo

Rampaging across the continent the raiders laid waste to everything they came across, in their greedy lust for riches and power. The fearsome young leader was afraid of nothing and rose to every challenge that came his way. Tyrion had recently become the supreme leader after challenging, defeating, and dethroning the previous leader. Tyrion was fearless, Lord of all the valleys and sub-kingdoms that made up the Southern half of the continent of Grevillea. Tyrion’s relentless atrocities continued Northwards ruthlessly conquering and ransacking everything in his path.

The powerful army of raiders had taken up residence in a valley that contained an impregnable castle. Tyrion felt secure and rested for a while to take stock of his kingdom. He sent out emissaries to contact his lords in residence in the conquered lands he ruled over, to demand funds by way of heavy taxes on the populations. One by one, these powerful lords arrived with gifts of much gold, silver and precious jewels.

A stranger from the north rode into the castle that day, amidst these lords, on a pure white stallion, leading a mule train loaded with many bales of a soft material. A gentle unarmed man approached the guards and requested an audience with Tyrion.

The aggressive captain of the guard immediately arrested him and he was dragged before the leader.

“Who are you and where do you hail from?” Tyrion immediately asked the man, now in chains to prevent his escape.

“Sir! My name is Santana, I come from Pacifica, a peaceful valley in the North. We have heard much about you and we would like to trade peacefully with you. We have much to offer and I am sure we could learn much from each other. We are a very peaceful people.”

Tyrion smiled benevolently and thought long and hard before replying. “What is to stop us from overrunning your peaceful community taking whatever we want?”

Santana said few words in reply, “Why? Everything we have is yours for the taking without bloodshed.”

Tyrion said. “What have you brought on your mule train?”

“A luxurious new mysterious material that we use to construct our dwellings, very lightweight and very strong and waterproof. I would like to show your men how to construct portable castles to keep you safe wherever you go.” Replied Santana.

Tyrion ordered his release at once and before long many portable castles covered the plains surrounding the castle.

More mule trains had continually arrived, bearing the wondrous new material, and several days later most of Tyrion’s army were housed in comfort.

Tyrion then ordered his army to prepare to march on Pacifica the next day, laughingly he prepared for an easy conquest.

Santana was shocked, “Why?” he asked, “We are your friends a very gentle peaceful people!”

Tyrion laughed and relied, “I need the money to continue to fight and conquer.”

That night all was prepared and the army slept comfortably and peacefully before the morning’s march on Pacifica.

Then fire broke out around the castle a raging inferno spread widely and raged out of control from castle to castle. There was no escape from the flames. Thousands died, the only survivors were inside the impregnable castle. Then an iron clad army surrounded the valley and wiped out the few survivors, before they marched through the gates that were opened from within.

Tyrion’s guards were killed and he was dragged before Santana.

“How?” He begged as he was forced on his knees

Taking a double edged sword Santana smiled and said. “This is the iron fist inside a velvet glove! Exacting justice for your ruthless killing.”

Then with one blow Santana cut off the tyrant’s head.

Peace

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A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “RENTAL IDENTITY”

Posted on Apr 3, 2016 by John Yeo | 7 Comments

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “RENTAL IDENTITY”
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RENTED IDENTITY,

by John Yeo

“I want it to be an unbreakable transformation. An identity that is so secure that even my own Mother would not be able to recognise me. Is that possible?”

The identity broker smiled benevolently and replied.

“Of course Sir! Anything is possible if the funds are available. We have experts in dialect who can alter the way you pronounce words. We’ve got surgeons who can alter your appearance in many ways. Psychologists who can change your learned behaviour and characteristics. We also have a revolutionary new treatment that takes the essence of your being and reshapes your body.”

“What are your prices?”

“Well Sir, prices vary accordingly. Our popular identity rental is very reasonable, a fixed rental price is agreed for the life of the identity, and should a reversion procedure be required, we just charge a payment for the restoration treatment.

A permanent identity change is of course possible. For an irreversible procedure a non-refundable fee is required.

Then there is our revolutionary new one-off treatment, where we guarantee an unidentifiable result.

A fluid dynamic chemical ooze of a variation of different identities that merge together in total integration. The previous personality takes over control and finally controls the identity of the whole. A higher power intervenes and takes control.” replied the broker.

“What if something goes wrong?”

“My good friend, we have been trading from time immemorial. We have a full money back guarantee, if you are not completely satisfied.”

With an air of total reassurance, the broker pulled a catalogue from a bureau full of glowing testimonials from unidentifiable previous customers.

“These testimonials are from unidentifiable people, Mr Broker! How do I know they are genuine?”

“My friend surely this is proof of our procedures the final results are unidentifiable. These are satisfied rental customers who have ongoing aftercare built into the contract.”

“I may try the revolutionary agreement. I have a question, If I go for your top procedure, where do the personalities in the fluid dynamic chemical ooze come from?”

“Thank you Sir, you will not be disappointed if you join our roll of honourable identity transformations.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Mr Broker where does the ooze form and from whose personality?”

“This is confidential information my friend, on both sides of the dividing line. Have no fear there will be no sudden surprises. Sign here for a new life and a new you. Well done you will not be disappointed! Step into this transformation unit and I will be back shortly to start things at once.”

There was a strange gurgling sound as the door to the unit closed behind him. He suddenly realised where the oozing personalities were from, as he began to feel himself drawn into a primeval chemical soup.

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A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “UNSTATEMENT”

Posted on Mar 24, 2016 by John Yeo | 5 Comments

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “UNSTATEMENT”
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DOUBLE JEOPARDY

by John Yeo

Rod and Al were the best of friends, they met at public school, and were star pupils in their year, both obtaining above average grades. A bright future was predicted for these two privileged students The two friends were both studying Law together at University. Carefree days that seemed to be stretching out forever. Rodney’s father was a Member of Parliament and Alastair came from a wealthy family of landed gentry.

Before long they were courting and sowing their wild oats, they both enjoyed substantial allowances from doting proud parents. Money was no object and the fine wine flowed, good food was savoured, and love blossomed and died many times. In spite of this, their studies were going well and they were on track to obtain very good results when they graduated.

Then out of the blue, along came a phone call from an old friend of Rods, an ex-girlfriend Geraldine. The tearful call was an urgent cry for help, and went something like this.

“Hey Rod! Gerry here! How are you? I’ve just discovered I’m pregnant. You will be a Father in July. We must get together and discuss what we’re going to do about this. You have always been the only one for me!”

Rod was stunned at this and immediately got on to Alastair who ridiculed the whole notion, actually referring to Geraldine as an easy ride, who was in the process of trying to take him for a ride.

Rod was too ashamed to ask for help from his Father and approached Geraldine demanding proof. Geraldine just laughed in his face and demanded money from him in an attempt to blackmail him into paying for a private termination.

That night Rod and Al went out on the town together, and after a long pub crawl they were heavily under the influence of alcohol when they were approached by two police constables on foot.

Al then drunkenly made an unwise statement. “I smell bacon!” There was a few minutes silence as the effect and the dual meaning of this remark sunk in to all present.

Soon they were both under arrest for being drunk and disorderly in a public place, and were shown into a cell at the local police station. They were interviewed and huge repercussions would surely follow, as this arrest could jeopardise their careers, if they were charged and their parents were involved.

Al immediately apologised to the police officers involved who decided this was an out of character remark, and advised them to stay out of trouble. Rod explained the background to the story and received a sympathetic response from the lady Constable behind the station desk.

Then another surprise awaited them as they were leaving, Geraldine was led into the police station. Rod was shocked to learn the so-called Mother of his unborn child. was a hooker using her wits to pay her way through University.

As they left the police station, Rod and Al shoved all the folding money they were carrying, into a charity box marked, “Police Widows and Orphans Fund.”

In spite of the ‘Unstatement’, that Al had erased, and Geraldine’s ‘Unstatement’, of impending motherhood exonerating Rod. The two young men became top lawyers and went on to enjoy successful unblemished careers. Geraldine went on to become a very wealthy celebrity model.

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PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ OUTRAGE

Posted on Mar 20, 2016 by John Yeo | 4 Comments

This is a latest Picture it and Write prompt from Emilia’s blog ~20th March

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com

Tabitha

OUTRAGE

by John Yeo

“There you are Tabitha, hiding in a drawer licking your lips and contentedly purring. I have a bone to pick with you! Our lunch is on the kitchen floor and shows suspicious signs of catty tooth marks all over it. I wish you could explain yourself you greedy little minx! I ought to punish you severely, it is no good rubbing your furry little body up against my legs. We are going to have to eat out now, which I suppose is not such a bad idea.”

An elongated hiss escapes through Tabitha’s prickly whiskers that if it was possible to translate would go something like this.

“Now look here! I’m your furry friend not an intruder into my own home!

I didn’t touch that cooked chicken you put on the table to cool down, although I must admit to a little boredom creeping into my diet. That splodge that comes out of those cheap cans you keep leaving on my plate is becoming increasingly tasteless.

I am here to provide playful love and affection and allow you to stroke me and share our lives together. I must admit while I was trying to catch that elusive mouse that lives in our kitchen, I might have accidentally knocked that chicken on the floor as I was chasing the little blighter.

How it became nibbled is a mystery, I did pick it up with my teeth and a morsel or two might have come adrift that I cleaned up with a few licks.

I am shocked at your outrageous accusations.”

Later that night after a wonderful meal with her significant partner, the lady of the house arrived home to find Tabitha still sulking in the drawer. Picking her up with a huge snugly hug, she stroked her soft fur and said.

“Thanks to you we’ve had a wonderful night out at a posh restaurant and tasted some excellent food. I am going to let you enjoy the rest of the chicken, starting with the tenderest morsels.”

Tabitha purred a special forgiving purr which if it was possible to translate would go something like this.

“Thanks, I forgive you.”

WRITNG PRACTICE ~ TORN JEANS

Posted on Mar 17, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

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Writing Practice from a prompt by The Write Practice

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The Prompt

Let’s twist things up. You show up to Mrs. White’s Tudor style mansion to meet with your writing critique group, as you do every week. You expect to have a fun time talking about writing and getting feedback, not to find one member of the group murdered in the drawing room. First, describe how you find the murder victim. Then, after the police lock you in a room with the rest of the guests, write about your suspicions of who-dun it as you look around the room at your fellow writers. (Set your timer for thirty minutes.)

~~~~~~~

TORN JEANS

by John Yeo

It’s Tuesday evening once again, My favourite evening of the week. We are off to take part in our evening of literary congeniality together, at Madeleine White’s mansion at the top of the hill, overlooking the village. Gilbert White is a wealthy industrialist who likes to play at being a Lord of the manor.

The drive up the steep hill is very pretty, with the estate farm and fields spreading out into the distant horizon. The huge ornamental gates with a statue of a horse’s head on each gatepost, are always left open on Tuesday to welcome the writing group.

Mrs White opens the door herself, in response to the chimes of the doorbell that resounds hollowly through the rooms of the mansion. The butler is off-duty on Tuesdays. We always receive a welcome from our lady hostess. There are just six of us in the group at present. Annie, Dorothy, Jill, Richard, Margaret and I.

We usually meet in the impressive library, where there are many leather bound books from floor to ceiling, and many comfortable chairs and tables. Tonight is no exception and we get ourselves comfortable as we wait for Jill, who has gone to fix her torn jeans in the drawing room full length mirror.

We wait a good ten minutes before we begin to work, we all leave one after another to get drinks in the drawing room, and visit the toilets situated there. Jill still hasn’t got back after another five minutes, and Mrs White leaves us to find her. Suddenly there is a frightening high scream from the drawing room. We all rush in there at once to find a shocked Mrs White and the prone figure of Jill on the floor of the drawing room. There is a pool of blood seeping over the carpet under her body. “She’s dead,” gasps Mrs White. somebody call the police.”

Soon after the police arrive to investigate and to the horror of everyone, we are all locked up in the library by the police.

Looking around at our fellow writers, I try to work out who is capable of the killing and why? Presumably we are locked up here because the police suspect one of us.

I immediately rule out Margaret and myself. This leaves Annie, Dorothy, and Richard and of course Mrs White. I think my suspicions lie with Dorothy, she has always held a competitive grudge against Jill.

Sometime later we are all interviewed by the investigating officer, who is still without a suspect, not a single clue has been revealed during the questioning.

Then after a search of the pantry, a man with blood on his clothes, found hiding there, is led out handcuffed by the police. Mrs White is in a state of shock as she identifies her butler.

The sensational twist in the tale occurred a week later when Madeleine White was arrested for the murder of Jill Dyson who was blackmailing her, for an alleged affair she had with her father. Jill claimed Mrs White was her Mother who had abandoned her to marry Gilbert White.

The butler was released after admitting smearing himself with blood to protect Mrs White.

Gilbert White is moving away soon. Sadly our literary group is no more.

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “TIME TORTURE”

Posted on Mar 16, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “TIME TORTURE”
Posted on 16th March 2016 by John Yeo
A prompt response for Inspiration Monday

Inspiration Monday: Time Torture

TIME TORTURE

by John Yeo

The very learned judge adjusted his cap and addressed the prisoner in the dock.

“You have been convicted of a very serious crime. My instincts are to sentence you to the ultimate sentence. However I intend to sentence you to one day’s imprisonment in the new psychological institution, where you will be re-educated and pay for your crimes. You will be considered for release at the end of the day’s sentence. That will be all!”

There was a general gasp of surprise from the people in the courtroom.

The prisoner smiled, then laughed out loud. “Thank you Judge! I will be eternally grateful to you for your consideration, and I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow.” He guffawed loudly as he was led away to the cells.

George Sweeney had battered a Post office clerk to death in the process of committing an armed robbery. He was a career criminal and had no remorse or conscience whatsoever.

He smiled as he was driven to a brightly lit hospital the next day to begin his sentence. The doctors were calm and reassuring as they showed him to his quarters, the bright lights were continually on at all times.

George ate a hearty meal and asked the orderly. “Can I see the Doctor in charge please, I would like to know what time my re-education begins.”

The orderly smiled and replied. “Don’t worry, Mr Sweeney, you will see him soon, there will be plenty of opportunities as the day progresses.”

George then said. “Can I have my watch back, it was removed from my wrist by the police, when I was arrested. There are no clocks here! What is the time right now?”

“Clocks are irrelevant here!” Replied the orderly. “You will get used to our system of time. Time that is stretched out and manipulated to allow you to think your thoughts and redress your balance. Enjoy the feeling of eternity as the day progresses and you will achieve much re-education and reorientation.”

George began to feel anxious when he heard this. “What do you mean? I am only here for a day, how can I achieve anything? What do you mean by stretching time? I demand to see the Doctor in charge right now!”

The orderly grinned and said, “Yes of course. I will go and fetch someone. I will be back soon.”

What seemed like hours passed as George waited and waited. He began calling out loudly to attract attention, banging on the walls and kicking the locked door. A small aperture in the wall held a lift-shaft where food was suddenly delivered, George then realised how hungry he was and wolfed the food down.

He became disorientated as the bright lights were on and blazing. He slept and woke as the Doctor arrived accompanied by several nurses and the orderly.

“Hello!” said the Doctor smiling. “How are you? What can I do for you? We have a long day ahead.”

“I don’t believe you!” George shouted! “I have been here for what seems like forever already. I demand to see a lawyer and I want my watch back!”

“Yes Mr Sweeney, here is your watch.”

George took the watch and suddenly realised it wasn’t working. “Hey! My watch is broken! It has been damaged! I demand to see someone from the police to report this crime!”

“Of course, Mr Sweeney, I will arrange that for you. Now relax and enjoy the rest of your day here.”

The doctor and his retinue then left.

What seemed to George like an eternity passed as he was left alone in his quarters with food appearing at odd hours and the orderly checking on him changing faces through the window in the door. The lights blazed interminably as George suddenly became aware that this was to be a never ending day. He became even more disoriented when he finally began to realise there would be no remission on this stretched out day’s sentence.

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FOCUS

Posted on Mar 8, 2016 by John Yeo | 1 Comment

THE WRITE PRACTICE

THE PROMPT

Practice focus by writing about a football player before a big game. How does he prepare his mind? Does he visualise the game in his mind? Does he think about what it felt like the first time he played the sport?

FOCUS

by John Yeo

The day has finally arrived. Training has been hard, videos, tactical moves on display on the blackboard, special exercises, every conceivable eventuality the coach could dream up, has been explored. Spies and scouts have infiltrated the opposition’s training ground and reported back to the boss. Yesterday we spent six hours rehearsing moves passing the ball to one another, working flash tackles, finishes, exploring defensive positions. Then another two hours studying the recorded major matches that the opposition have been involved in this season. We have tried to get inside their coach’s mind to interpret the thinking that has gone into the moves he has drummed into his team. Then, more field practice, moves and countermeasures to block their favourite modes of attack. We have even been studying the way to counter a professional foul, this is increasingly a blight on the game lately, and we have to study how to spot the signs of a lead up to a foul. Next we study avoidance with methods of hidden retaliation, a natural response if you have just avoided getting put out of the game.

The big match is two days away and the boss has given everyone a night off, to get away from the consistent living, dreaming, eating, the game, with the total absorption of the hard intense training. We have been shut away in a hotel for almost two weeks solid now. The players are heading into town to clear the cobwebs away, we have been instructed to steer clear of too much wine, women and song. I intend to treat myself to a night at the theatre. There is a performance of Shakespeare’s, “Hamlet” at the local theatre, put on by the local repertory company. I am a great fan of this play and it will take my mind off the match. My mates all disdained accompanying me, in favour of a local nightclub that reputedly serves soft drink. I hear the coach is delighted with this plan.

Surprisingly almost everyone turned up for training on time the next day. Two of the lads were a bit late, but no harm done, the boss has given them a telling-off, to remember. Everyone is keen and as sharp as glass. Kevin, our star striker was developing moves out of thin air. There were two very pretty female spectators on the sidelines cheering him on. Who they were, is anybody’s guess.

The match is scheduled to begin in one hour. There is a huge crowd in the stands and I am blanking everything out and furiously meditating on the Prince’s soliloquy in Hamlet. “To be or not to be?.” Becomes what will my rise in pay be when I raise that cup above my head.

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