I have an Idea – updated

Eight. Temporary Cover.

Day 27. Back on the 18th December, I wrote a post titled… I Have An Idea. Since then, I have been working on a writing a book called EIGHT. The original idea was to post it on another blog I’d set up, but after taking part in BlogFestivus 2012, I took a different direction with the process.

Now, the book will consist of 300 word chapters set in 4 parts, and will be posted to this blog instead. For the rough mathematical breakdown, you’ll have to visit the earlier post. Sorry, but I can’t provide a link because I don’t know how to.

So, here is the first installment.

I watched the robin as it landed on the bare, hawthorn branch. Red breast fluffed against the blast of icy wind that rocketed down the lane, distracting me from Craig‘s anal moaning about last periods science lesson.

“So, what do you think?” Craig said.

“About what?” I said, tucking my hands into my pockets, still watching the tiny bird as it stared back at us.

“The match tomorrow. Do you think Big Mac will put me on the bench again?”

“What are you on? Can’t you talk about anything for longer than a minute. Anyway, how the feck should I know.”

Mr. Rentham, our PE teacher and footie coach (aka Big Mac because his breath always smelled of burgers), had benched him for the last three games.

“You’re the captain. You should know about the team line-up,” he said.

I took my eyes off the bird and watched the stone Craig kicked, clack straight up the middle of the lane. If he could only shoot like that on the pitch, he wouldn’t have ended up on the bench, I thought, shaking my head.

By the time I looked up again the robin had gone. Lucky bugger, at least it could get away from everything. Not like me, stuck here listening to him bitching his life away.

“Well I don’t, Sully. Okay. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow like the rest of us.”

“Yeah right, as if you have anything to worry about,” he said, rolling his eyes skywards.

Craig might be my best mate, but even I had trouble controlling the urge to punch him sometimes. I forced my lips together and pushed my face further into the top of my jacket. No point in arguing with him, if this weather kept up they would probably cancel the match anyway.

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