Sir, your wife is very sick. She and the baby are in danger, we are going to have to try to deliver the baby tonight.
Butthats six weeks ahead of schedule! She is not due yet! Whats happening??
Mr. King, calm down. We dont know. It almost like her body is rejecting the baby.
What!? That doesnt even make sense! It was just stomach cramps and now I am loosing my wife and child!?
Mr. King, sir, we will do all we can, I just wanted to update you.
No, let me see her. I want to see her right now.
I am sorry, she is no condition to se---
Thomas King opened his eyes suddenly, covered in a film of cold sweat and breathing heavily. That day had ended with him loosing his wife, his child, and in his mind, his lifein trade for some jail time for the damaged he had caused in the hospital to both the staff and the building itself. The jail time was commuted to community service, all of which had been served, but it was only recently that he had found any semblance of life again. Still, the nightmares had never left him. Rising from the bed, he wiped the sweat from his face and headed for the bathroom to get ready. He would not be getting any more rest tonight.
Dressed and refreshed as best he could, Thomas exited his home and headed down his driveway. Once he had reached its end, he stopped, took a deep breath and began walking, part of his morning routine, heading for the nearby gym for a workout; a small, full bible in his right hand, his gear bag on his left shoulder. As he walked, he wondered what the day would hold for him.
-- Edited by Warrior Spirit on Saturday 15th of May 2010 04:33:33 AM
As she has done often, Niila Ruth stands at her kitchen window drinking a glass of orange juice as she watches Thomas King walk by her house. Still in her bed clothes, a brown wife beater and thigh-high tan panties, she shakes her head and moves away from the window as she wonders why she goes through this every morning, why she continues to work out at home at night instead of saving it for the morning when she can say...something...to him. Why should she anyway? Why is she so drawn to him? She rolls her eyes and puts her glass on the table on her way out of the kitchen.
She lies down on her sofa and reads the newspaper.
-- Edited by Warm on Monday 17th of May 2010 02:15:30 AM
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ADMINISTRATOR
"The absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence."--Gin Rummy, "The Boondocks"
Giving a brief glance in both directions, Thomas crossed the street and stepped into the gym parking lot. The building wasnt quite as big as some of the others in town, but it was well equipped and its size allowed the trainers to give more personal attention to their clients. Thomas himself did not have one, but it was not due to lack of their trying. He simply didnt need any training to keep healthy. His body seemed to take care of that all by itself, and truly he worked out more for the stress relief and maintain his mobility and flexibility than anything else.
Rubbing his temples, Thomas entered the gym. Get out of there he grumbled to himself, speaking to the memories that would not leave him in peace. Nodding his usual hello to the young woman behind the counter, he headed to the back of the workout area to one of the more private rooms. While no area was truly excluded from the patrons, aside from the administration areas, there were 2 large rooms and 3 of medium size that allowed for various workout classes or personal instruction to take place. Thomas went into the last of these and dropped his bag in the corner. Then moved to the center of the room and began a few basic stretches to warm himself up. Jumping around a bit, he rolled his shoulders and shook his arms, getting the kinks out and then settled, taking and slow, deep breath; his eyes closing. When he opened them again, his demeanor had changed. In a very fluid, simple step, he was in a open handed fighting stance, his eyes locked on some distant, unseen enemy. Step by step, slowly, easily, he moved through the first of the many forms he would string together before he was done.
Just as she is finishing up a crossword puzzle, the telephone rings. For the next five minutes, she explains to her mother once again that she has moved so far away from home to get away from all the places she spent time with Sampson. "Yes, Mama, I know it's been over a year...Yes, Mama, I do love you...Yes, Mama...Goodbye, Mama." She hangs up the telephone and goes into the bedroom to get dressed.
Clothed in denim shorts and a green tank top, she walks toward the door. On the way out, she sees the first copy of her latest novel from the publisher sitting on the coffee table. She smiles, grabs her gloves and gardening tools, and goes outside to work in her garden.
__________________
ADMINISTRATOR
"The absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence."--Gin Rummy, "The Boondocks"
By the time Thomas was done with his morning workout, sweat was pouring from him like rain. He breath deeply as he finished the last set, then gathered his things and head for the locker room. Once there, he locked his bag away, and strode to the showers to wash away the morning perspirations.
While under the stream of hot water pouring from the shower head, Thomas closed his eyes and exhaled softly. The workout always left him refreshed, but it could not clear his mind. Nothing could, it seemed, for every time, (almost) that he closed his eyes, he saw the faces of his loved ones still haunted him. With a groan of frustration, Thomass fist pounded on the wall, cracking the tile beneath it. Damn he whispered and cried openly with the water streaming down is face.
Before long, he was dressed and back out the door, in control of himself one. His face reflected none of his sorrow, save for his eyes, which were hidden behind his sunglasses. He decided to head back to his home to get ready for work instead of stopping for his usual morning smoothie.
On the way by, he happen to noticed of his neighbors outside. Although she lived several houses away, the apparently young woman was a part of his neighborhood. If he had a mind for it, he would have allowed for his mind to drift a bit on her looks, but instead he simply called out a hello, waved and continued on at his normal pace.
