The Slate Of Vale

Annabel peters climbed up the stairs, with thoughts trying to grip on what the day's event would look like. The cheering and shouting, the drinks and the party, the vibe that the adrenaline once produced when they soared on their H-Board and more especially, the guys.

She sighed when she remembered those days in the night camp with her crew, those nights when the star oceans the heavens and the moon smiled at them. Those rosy days with her husband, who was the greatest racer in the whole of Anadan, though he never won any international title, how ironic? It is true that things were a little different from the way the race were now organised, but even at her early forty, she still looks forward to it. Her spirit is ever elated when she sees youngsters battling to make it first to the finish line.

She was supposed to be in a hurry, but she ambled up the stairs, struggling to keep the lock of her hair under a tiny rubber band. The hair had been her pride when she was still in her prime, Her husband would shower her with an epitome of praise, until the ocean becomes a river.

Annabel bit her under lips when she remembered that the praises of her husband has tested the great beyond. It vexes her that she was now feeling that same emptiness that she had kept bay for years.

Today is a day of joy; I won't ruin it for my boy.

Annabel felt something in her stomach lifting, but it stopped when it got to her chest. It was not fear, it was the confidence she had in her son, her only child. She turned the knob of the brown door and pushed it slightly.

"Jeff, oh my goodness, you are still in bed? its morning already." Annabel said reluctantly, it was not her intention to disturb him, but she couldn't bear to see his days of tireless training crumble.

The familiarity of the room drifted her thoughts back to her husband. The memories of him always constant here. This had been her husband's room before Jeff was born nineteen years ago. Nothing had changed much, everything still had that old feeling, even the old jacket hanging on the door of the closet and the picture of the gray hoe, which symbolizes their linage.

Annabel frowns again, bringing lines to her dark fair skin, as her white copper eyes rested on the rose decorated blanket lying on the bare floor.

"Jeff, get up, have you forgotten what day it is?"

The black haired boy called Jeff, steered lazily with a sleepy frown on his young face.