[Timed to 8 March] Debut - For Effy
The phone chirrups, its signal lost, and Tony curses under his breath as he pulls it from his ear to peer at the pale glow of the display.
Call ended shines back at him in the darkness, and isn't that just brilliant? Tony can appreciate the sheer nihilism inherent to Murphy's Law, but could really do without its application in this particular moment. Motivational arguments aside, he'd actually meant what he'd said. Or rather, was trying to say before Murphy's ever-timely intervention.
A breeze stirs his hair, humid and heavy with the scent of something lush and far removed from the street's pervasive tang of vomit and exhaust. A wisp of melody carries in on it, and Tony looks up, phone forgotten in a slack hand. A well-worn boardwalk stretches into the dimly-lit distance, banked on either side by unruly trees. The mantle of royal blue sky above is dusted with stars, their placement as unfamiliar as the abrupt heat creeping beneath his jumper.
"Ooo, baby baby, it's wild world…it's hard to get by just upon a smile…"
"Sid? Sidney?"
The song's so faint, so fleeting, Tony isn't certain he heard it at all, and he strains to listen beyond the sudden cacophony of the jungle around him. Turning in place, stomach in anxious knots, he takes up the next verse without thinking, a call and response to a best friend who inexplicably knows the words to Cat Stevens.
Call ended shines back at him in the darkness, and isn't that just brilliant? Tony can appreciate the sheer nihilism inherent to Murphy's Law, but could really do without its application in this particular moment. Motivational arguments aside, he'd actually meant what he'd said. Or rather, was trying to say before Murphy's ever-timely intervention.
A breeze stirs his hair, humid and heavy with the scent of something lush and far removed from the street's pervasive tang of vomit and exhaust. A wisp of melody carries in on it, and Tony looks up, phone forgotten in a slack hand. A well-worn boardwalk stretches into the dimly-lit distance, banked on either side by unruly trees. The mantle of royal blue sky above is dusted with stars, their placement as unfamiliar as the abrupt heat creeping beneath his jumper.
"Ooo, baby baby, it's wild world…it's hard to get by just upon a smile…"
"Sid? Sidney?"
The song's so faint, so fleeting, Tony isn't certain he heard it at all, and he strains to listen beyond the sudden cacophony of the jungle around him. Turning in place, stomach in anxious knots, he takes up the next verse without thinking, a call and response to a best friend who inexplicably knows the words to Cat Stevens.