To Sunlit Isles (The Never-Ending Circus, Book 1)

Chapter Four

Authors Note: "Hello! I'd like to preface this chapter by saying I've made several changes in the previous chapters when doing another re-write of the novel. Suffice to say, I haven't gotten around to updating the rest of the novel to reflect those changes. It's highly probable that the story has some plotholes now, but I decided to upload the rest of the book nevertheless. Perhaps, if motivation finds me, one day I'll finish the final draft and patch up the story. For now, please enjoy the story and don't stare too closely at the plot holes!" - E. B. Robertson

A young man awoke to the sound of his alarm clock blaring in his ears. How long had that been going off? He sat up groggily and tried to make sense of the surroundings in his bedroom. He could just barely make out the numbers on his clock through the fog in his eyes. He rubbed them to try and clear his vision and made an effort to wake up.

Standing from the bed, he stretched and hobbled over to the mirror above his dresser. His reflection stared back at him like always. A long nose, bright blue eyes streaked with hazelnut highlights and pale, freckled skin. Topped off with an unruly mop of curly bright ginger hair. Nothing had changed overnight, he was still the awkward pre-pubescent looking Freddy Green he'd always been.

He turned back towards his bedside table and squinted again at the clock, still screaming its shrill alarm. Panic flashed through his mind as he read nine forty-five in blocky red numbers on the digital screen. He was already forty-five minutes late for work! He would get an earful of this from his boss. Last time an employee was late, Freddy didn't see them for two hours, until he realized they were stuck in the office getting lectured by Mr. Lixten. He was Freddy's boss who seemed allot like a high school teacher, lecturing his misbehaving students in detention. But Freddy wouldn't know anything about being lectured, with his perfect attendance and what not.

Freddy nearly cracked on grin at the thought of arriving on time for something. Punctuality was never a strong suit of his. Freddy threw on his clothes in an effort to make up for lost time, nearly putting his pants on backwards in the process.

Hopping across the room with one leg in his pants, one leg out, he tripped over an unsuspecting chair. Shutting his eyes to brace for impact, Freddy waited helplessly to be met by the harsh embrace of his bedroom floor.

He felt his shin collide with the chair and felt his world spinning around as he flipped head over heels. Yet his head never hit the ground like he was expecting. Slowly, he opened his eyes to find himself still upright. He was no gymnast, so performing a perfect front-over-chair-flip seemed out of the ordinary.

Having narrowly avoided an impromptu make out session with the floor, and feeling a bit lucky for once, he rushed out of his teensy one room apartment without breakfast. Rushing down the stairs, Freddy slipped on a loose tile and felt his feet fly out from under him. Suddenly, Freddy no longer felt lucky.

Falling down the stairs, He closed his eyes again and prayed he wouldn't brake his neck by the time he reached the bottom. He felt himself tumbling headfirst and falling down. But the impact of body on stairs didn't come. Instead, he was standing, at the bottom of the staircase. Two perfect accidental front flips in one day? Freddy's luck was getting better after such a rough start. Hopefully this meant he wouldn't have to listen to another one of Mr. Lixten's lectures about workplace responsibilities.

Just as he was getting to the door, he heard a voice call to him from the mail boxes on the far wall. "Hey Freddy! Good morning, late for work again I see." It was Lilly Robinson, a girl from his old high school. A recent graduate like himself, just slightly more successful.

Ok, allot more successful. she could probably afford food that was slightly higher class than ramen every night.

"Oh, hey Lilly. No I'm not late, I don't start till, umm, ten o'clock or so." Lying was the only thing he had left to keep his morning from falling apart any further.