Resilient ends

Resilient ends

“...Josh”
In the frail passage of time the tone of the voice lowered through each letter of my birth name, the soft feminine warmth began discolouring, the warm casing surrounding with the pure essence of tenderness eroded to nothing more than a bitter, vindictive voice slithering in devoid of affection, the hush of the word roughly executed into silence. The Italian presence in the tone enlightened the inaccurately force forwards of raw intimidation, it was true, Don Dispella’s reputation spoke more than his words ever could.
A younger voice broke the settling silence, his accent not as thick as Don’s that much was obvious, at least six months in the sunny state of Florida—all right for some.
“I think he’s with us again”
Don’s sarcastic wakening churned through my head like a barricade had just been broken by a horde of raging tribesmen, wave after wave after wave of sharp darts enraging some dormant part of me yet to rouse; bastard.
Rhetorical questions, gritted teeth, I could barely see him; I couldn’t help but think that was a good thing. I knew he’d be still dressed in old Italian rags, designer suits, old ties, and old shoes shined up like new; just like his reputation a decade old but still going strong.
“Morning sunshine, Good to see you again, did you sleep well, you look a little drowsy”

-----

The sun’s magnificence display of morning rays sparkled through the transparent glass hitting the floor, the furniture and spreading over the width of each room of the Studio-home; the only movement the light could catch was its own reflection. The only sound that was prominent in the early morning stillness was man-made, the sizzle of sausages and bacon cooking unattended, beckoning the peak between cooked and burnt as its supervisor lay slumped over the counter side catching a few minutes of rest unwarranted by distractions.
The knell of the smoke alarm shattered the wall made from lack of attentiveness Josh’s subconscious had weaved and steadily coaxed him behind; his awakening brought his muscles to attention, awkwardly falling back from the counter with the vigour of realities arrival beckoning him to succumb to the inevitable force. He gasped sharply—harshly in taking the smoky atmosphere, his arms spread out steadying his balance as his eyes blinked numerous times allowing the world to slide into focus. He took a few seconds to familiarize himself with the kitchen sinking into the moment, comfort of home smelt good mixed in with the well cooked scent of sausages. Reaching out to turn the knob on cooker, Josh turned it anticlockwise lowering the flame into nothing relieved the tortured sausages torment, his hand dropped to the handle of the pan taking it off the stove and straight onto the counter which would leave a stain on the surface; evidence of his tribulations. Foolhardily Josh reached out without hesitation or concern for thought to pick up the hot sausages individually, tossing each between his fingers admitting grunts of frustration as his fingers burnt. When he was within dropping distance of the white bread halves he had sliced he placed several within the halves which were spoiled in tomato sauce, a fried egg and thin slices of grilled bacon; a fattening early morning sinful taste of pleasure. The second plate was filled with a more healthy variation, but enough to feed growing mother and child; a bagel spread with cream cheese, he moved both plates onto a tray where he could easily carry both to their destination.


His back pushed against the door of his bedroom, widening it just enough for him to struggle through with both hands clutching the tray cautiously, between his teeth he had seized a fresh rose; an added personal touch to start the morning; with love from Italy.  His eyes lifted over the room, cringing part closed as his vision was filled rapidly with light from the glorious start to the day momentarily flooding the room with its brilliant radiance fading just as swiftly as the door was nudged to a close, vanquishing light from the room and the shadows eagerly resuming their place without delay which allowed his eyes to open without the natural restraint that was forced upon him by the harsh light. His eyes easily settled over the slender figure that lay tangled within the bed sheets, right where he had left her; what a sight for sore eyes. He lingered silently in the spot in front of the door taking in every delicate curve the figure had, his observations sinking deep as if it was of utmost urgency to memorize every possible detail. It took a while for Josh to move, his bare feet skimmed across the top of the carpet, avoiding the danger spots that lay inscribed within his mind, enabling him to fulfil his entry into the room with little to no sound. He moved around the base of the bed to the side which he had been kindly allocated to him by his beloved whom spent more time on his side than she did her own which he felt blissful about as he reminisced.
He knelt forward onto the bed his knee dug into the mattress as he leant forwards over Audrey as she slept, wafting the smell of well cooked food over her, leaning partially on her as he stretched to place the tray down beside her on the bed-side table. Josh ran his hand down the side of Audrey, tracing the line of her form with tender accuracy as his head lowered to the side of hers letting the petals of the rose brush delicately over her cheek.
“Wake up, beautiful” He whispered into her ear, letting his lips brush against the top line of the muscle, feeling the first few moments of her stirring his lips turning to press against her cheek as his hand slide the rose out from between his teeth, holding it pressed against the centre of her chest. Audrey murmured as she stirred her hand raised to press against the side of his face, taking his head into her hold pulling him towards she learned to meet his lips with a gentle kiss.

“…Josh”

Her voice was soft, gentle with the familiar tenderness that came with her love, the kind of voice that could heal the darkest of pain, soothe the raging of hearts, and provide enough courage to live through anything. Behind every great man there is a great woman, she was mine, she is mine, she was, is a god…goddess, and I, I am the only one to know the full potential of…of


His thoughts stuttered within the protective walls of his mind, consciousness rushed over him like a bad smell instilling a bad taste in his mouth. His head dropped forward in a sudden rush as he desperately was faced with a mental fight to maintain the serene imagery that had began to fade into a dark and gloomy setting as his eyes opened. The lids of his eyes flickered unremittingly to close and seek out home loosing sight of it all together as his head jerked back stiffly to face his surroundings reluctantly to avoid the odour emitted from the dirty rag which was forced in front of his face causing a stinging sensation to cross over his struggling eyes, moistening the eye balls making his objective increasingly harder.


“Morning sunshine, Good to see you again, did you sleep well, you look a little drowsy”