Chapter 15 - The Falling Bricks

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Authors Note - please be kind, I'm not a professional writer I do this as a hobby - Leave a vote/comment if you enjoy as every little bit helps

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Chapter15 - Michael Standom - The Falling Bricks


Theysay when you wake up with cold toes it means someone you know hasdied. The morning chills nip at Michael's digits like a hungryjackal and even after covering them with socks the frosty feelingstill manages to make them eerily numb. The day is murky with clouds,and the air is filled with a sedating calm. Even so Michael isbounding with an unusual optimism. Agatha's gesture is nothingshort of astounding and the thought of being able to get back to workfills him with excitement. Inspiring thoughts enter his head likefanciful day dreams. Ideas of how to improve, renovate and otherwisepayback this generous investment flood his waking morning.

"I'llput some money into advertising the store..." he tells himself ashe gets changed.

"...No.What I could do is purchase new equipment. That would after allguarantee a better product..."

Helaughs as he ties his overly long shoelaces and tucks the remainderof the strands into the heels.

"...OrI could fix up the store front, make it spick and span, brand neweven," he chuckles while chewing his breakfast.

Hecan feel the tickle of something lightly grazing his forehead. Asmall dark line appears in his vision. It dangles in front of himlike a taunting stranger. With a second glance he knows it's hishair. A shrug and a puff of air in its direction and it still swaysin front of him. With a tentative hand he grabs it and pulls it downto its full length. When straight it reaches the bridge of his nose,an unusual length for Michael as he always keeps himself wellgroomed.

"Gettinga bit long aren't you ?" He asks it.

Therecomes an unexpected smile and laugh that seems to brighten the roomlike a lighthouse over a foggy sea.

"WellI guess that's what happens when you're out of work for some time.Never mind. Won't be long until I'm back where I should be."

Themorning is barely half finished when a phone call shakes the peacefulatmosphere of the quiet apartment. Its ring seems out of place, sofull of purposeful energy compared with the rest of the rooms whichhave been coated in the calm and grey of rainy days. It almost givesMichael, who sits in his fading armchair reading a hefty book, afright. He lets it ring a couple of times before making a singlemove. Even when the time comes for him to answer the call he moveswith slow disinterest as if he no more wants to pick it up than hewould a screaming baby. But much like a baby he walks towards it outof obligation not desire. The book he's holding closes with asilken marker firmly in between the pages to keep his place. It takesa jolt to get him to standing from his comfortable position. Hewearily moves over to the ringing disturbance like an old man, timidand worn out. As he reaches for it a splintering pain speeds throughhis body. It's the anticipation one feels when you know there isbad news to come. A wondering thought asks if the phone is neveranswered then does the bad news go away ? And Michael shakes hishead. The tale has already happened, there is no avoiding it now.There is only the power to deal with it and Michael knows this. Sowith quaking fingers he picks up the phone. With the piece to his earhe doesn't say a word, deciding instead for the person on the otherend to query if Michael his picked up or not. When the voice speaksfrom the other end it draws Michael's speech forward like thecalling of one wild wolf to another.

"Michael? You there ?" It says.

Thevoice belongs to none other than Agatha.

"Yes.Yes I'm here," he answers as soon as it dawns on him who'stalking.

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