[Download] "For All the Marbles (Short Story)" by Aethlon: The Journal of Sport Literature " Book PDF Kindle ePub Free
eBook details
- Title: For All the Marbles (Short Story)
- Author : Aethlon: The Journal of Sport Literature
- Release Date : January 22, 2009
- Genre: Reference,Books,
- Pages : * pages
- Size : 322 KB
Description
Standing naked and thinking of the King, Dick had worked himself into a froth. From beneath heavy black brows, his eyes--described by his enemies as beady--had spent more time than usual glaring at his reflection in the full length mirror. His schedule--away from business, away from his pinch-faced bitch of a wife--offered little time for self-evaluation. Now, momentarily alone, he had stripped. Confronting reality, he struggled to arrange his football-shaped torso into something more threatening. He had played the game in college. Everybody knew that, but still they joked about the pronounced slouch that made him look like he'd had one of those mobile xylophones strapped to his back in the marching band. It was true his shoulders now bowed inward to meet his sagging jowls, but whose wouldn't under the weight of this goddamned job? Dick still thought of himself as a football player. Occasionally, he interrupted his busy schedule to sketch spectacular offensive plays on scraps of paper and even cloth napkins. "Could have been a helluva coach," he often muttered to himself, and he knew it to be true. He was a powerful man. Every day, circumstances confirmed this, but still Dick wondered about his place among powerful men. He wondered if the King did this. Did he have the time, the privacy--the need--to pull off his clothes and examine his flesh for flaws--the kind that invites public ridicule? In Dick's opinion, the King probably did not. Sure, his royal garb was spectacular, but it reeked of a bad Vegas lounge act, and it was embarrassing in the way it revealed, rather than concealed, the man's obvious ignorance of time's toll. Dick was older by some twenty-five years, but as he thought of their bodies and backgrounds, he became convinced that he could kick the Ring's ass if push came to shove. The King had never suited up after all, never strapped on the pads, and stuck his leather helmet-covered head into the midst of violence.