Thoughts from a dreamer…
A brief intermission is called, whilst Emperor E has a quick conflab with his trusted cohort Legionare Biz Stone.
As everyone goes off to their day-jobs; I sit in the gallery -devastated that my writing gladiators. Those whom, I have pinned my colours on, are gone. Not even a body to wail over. I use my green hearts to blow my nose.
Ben-Hur looks pretty lonely. He is looking at the sky whilst twirling his laurel wreath.
As I cast my eyes around the stadium, I see Kel Campbell walk through the arches. She is framed by rays of sunlight. She is lovingly polishing her shield which is shaped in a magnificent V.
“Carpe diem Bitches” calls Kel. “FU; FU” they start chanting as they run out, into the arena.
“Holy algorhythms!” says the writer next to me. “This shit just got real.”
My heartbreak is healed- “Now the Grammar Games have truly begun…”
As he captures, a glance of the advancing fury, Jon Westenberg turns and quietly says “Ben, about that whole numbers game thing…”
Benjamin P. Hardy looks shaken “Et tu brutus”