Kevin Jones has a secret. He stared into the bathroom mirror and admired what he saw. He tilted his head, raised one eyebrow and thought “how can she resist this?” He readjusted his stance to improve his look. He turned his body to get a side profile. This was a slightly less pleasing angle. He pulling his tummy in, which didn’t really make much of a different, thinking he could probably benefit from losing a little weight. “She is one lucky lady,” he said to himself just as he noticed he looked less fat if he turned a little to the left.What he didn’t notice was that Brian and Harry had walked into the bathroom a few minutes earlier. They stood in silence, holding in hysterical laughter in the hope that this comedy moment could last just a little longer. “One lucky lady,” he whispered as raised his arms to flex his biceps. In mid-flex he noticed his two colleagues staring at him, wide-eyed and about to explode with laughter.

“One lucky lady?” Brain exhaled before he turned blue.

“Yeah, who’s the lucky lady Kev?” Harry quipped.

“Wh… wh… what?” Kevin stuttered, playing for time. “Lucky ladies, plural… once I get into shape I’ll be fighting them off.”

Brain shook his head in pity. “You’re losing it man.”

“No, seriously,” Kevin struggled. “I’ve made a decision to get into shape… I’m going to run a marathon this year, you’ll see.”

Did he really say that? Did he really say he’d run a marathon? Is he really that stupid? Can he for once in his life take one of his ill thought-out comments back?

Brian and Harry looked at each other, nodded in agreement, looked back at Kevin and said in unison “now that sounds like a bet.”

“You’re on!” Kevin exclaimed.

Kevin adored Chloe Keswick. She was perfect for him but he knew that he was not perfect for her, yet! He was unfit, unhealthy, a little fat and getting fatter. Life seemed to be rushing past fast and he seemed to be going downhill faster. Already in his mid-thirties he felt old but not so old that he had left it too late to fix this. To that end he had decided to become a runner to get fit and healthy, and especially more attractive to Chloe. He was sure this simple action was going to change his life! After all how hard can it be to put one foot in front of the other?

He needed a plan, a schedule and a place in his diary to squeeze it into. Mornings were not an attractive option; and evenings were tricky too. He paused for a moment, thinking about his frequent outings with the lads for drinks. It seemed a tad incompatible for someone who was soon to join the ranks of athletes to spend so much time down the pub. Perhaps a reduction in frequency rather than abstinence would be a better approach, after all his friends would miss him terribly and he was only thinking of them. Lunchtimes could work but he had to eat, and he really liked to eat. Oh dear, this was going to be a problem.

Over the weekend he decided he was going to run early in the morning, every morning. To begin with he would take it easy, perhaps 2 miles, maybe 3 if he felt like it. This was an exciting moment, a monumental decision and by lunchtime on Sunday everyone knew about it, whether they liked it or not.

Rising early the next day Kevin pulled on his brand new running gear; a brightly coloured long sleeved shirt with reflective stripes, shorts and a pair of professional looking running socks. Tired and more than a little sleepy he shuffled downstairs and into the kitchen for breakfast. Porridge and a banana he thought, keep it healthy, start as he meant to go on. And a glass of orange juice and a coffee for hydration seemed like a good idea.

He sat on a kitchen chair, feet flat on the floor, staring loosely ahead while listening to the subtle groans of a house warming up after a cold winter’s night. He could have sat there all day as he was struggling with the thought of leaving this warm cocoon. Taking a deep breath he reached for his new running shoes and slipped them on. They felt snug but comfortable, and with a few adjustments he tied the laces to complete the outfit.

Kevin started to feel a little nervous as he walked the long walk up to his front door where he was greeted with a whoosh of freezing air that shocked the system. He stood motionless in the doorway between his warm cosy kitchen and the freezing abyss outside, seriously considered stepping back inside. Just in time he remembered his enthusiastic banter about how he would be a changed man next time he was in the office, an athlete no less, and so with a deep breath he leaned into the wind and took off down the street.

Kevin made it about 100 meters when he felt his breakfast making its presence known, another 50 meters and he started to tire. His legs quickly felt heavy, like he had a child hanging onto each leg. Staring down at his feet with confusion and bewilderment he couldn’t understand what was happening. How could it possibly be this difficult? Surely this is simply walking, only faster? He tried desperately to understand what was happening as energy literally leaked out of every pore of his body as he slowly came to a rather pathetic stop.

Standing still he bent over and rested his hands on his knees. He was totally shocked at having only run 150 meters and was now completely done in, exhausted, shattered! His poor legs were shaking and his heart was racing. This required a serious rethink. Did he take on too much too soon? “Hang on,” he said out loud, “how could 150 meters be anywhere near too much?” Sheepishly he tiptoed back to his house, partly because he would be embarrassed if anyone had seen him fail so spectacularly and partly because he really couldn’t walk any faster.

Later that morning as the elevator doors opened onto his seemingly deserted office floor. He really didn’t want to see anyone and this was good; this was very good he thought to himself. He stepped out and slowly walked towards his desk at the far side of the office floor. Passing empty cubicles he began to relax and felt victory was near. He thought he heard faint tapping that grew clearer the more he walked.

It was Chloe, dear Chloe, happily tapping away on her keyboard with her headphones on as she concentrated deeply on whatever HR stuff she was typing. Kevin was never in this early, by the time he got to work everyone was already there and the hellos, good mornings and how are you doing were already done by others, he would just breeze and give a cursory smile with a “hey” to whoever he passed on the way to his desk. This was different. This time it was just him and Chloe. This was a golden opportunity to show off his witty banter and convince her that he was a changed man. It was also an opportunity to actually talk to Chloe. Up to then their interactions were limited to him choking on whatever he was eating when she passed by, and he always seemed to be eating, or nervously muttering something unintelligible when she acknowledged him in the corridor.

He stopped at Chloe’s cubicle and smiled an exaggerated clown-like smile, and held it for what seemed like an eternity until she relented and slipped off her headphones.

“Good mooooaning Chloe,” Kevin said cheerfully, still holding the enthusiastic fake smile.

She slowly raised her gaze upwards saying “did you really say moaning, Craig?” She sighed “really… moaning?” she continued.

Kevin’s face flushed with embarrassment, “Oh… I’m sorry… it was just a little joke… you know… a little early morning humour… ahem… thought it might cheer you up a little,” he muttered sheepishly.

Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “Do I look like I need cheering up Craig?” she sighed.

“Oh no no no, not at all… I’m just being silly… just passing through… wanted to spread a little of my morning sunshine cheer,” he chirped hoping to recover something from this disastrous situation.

“Passing through… and yet you’re still here…” Chloe exhaled, eyes still narrowed.

“Well I’m just explaining what… I mean I’m… you know… just saying….” Kevin choked.

“You are just saying, Craig? You know, perhaps a little less talkie and a little more walkie would be in order?” Chloe suggested tilting her head suggesting he walk away.

“Oh… THAT is funny, THAT is comedy gold right there Chloe,” laughed Kevin with a barely believable fake laugh, “you are a funny girl… so funny… and really good looking… and REALLY funny… funny…yep!” Kevin’s knew he stepped over a line, he actually felt he stumbled into a large hole.

“Really!!” snapped Chloe.

“Really!” confirmed Kevin, hoping that she may return the compliment, any compliment.

“Good morning Craig, I have a lot of work to do,” she said dismissingly as her focus returned to her desk.

“Ah, OK” Kevin mumbled, feeling rejected. He felt he had to walk away with something so he straightened up and said “and it’s Kevin by the way, NOT Craig… you couldn’t even get that right!” Kevin thought for a second as he ran some letters though his head. He smiled as he came up with this clever parting blow… “Not only did you get my name wrong BUT you couldn’t even get a single letter right!!!!”

“Not Craig?” Chloe asked.

“No, not Craig… Kevin Jones, pleased to meet you… NOT!!” Kevin retorted.

“Jones… Kevin Jones… you… “ Chloe said thinking hard. “You own that red tin can on wheels you call a car, the one that leaves a pool of oil everywhere it stops,” Chloe said angrily.

“It’s a classic Italian sports car, sure it leaks a little but that’s what classics do!” Kevin fought back.

“Pools of oils…” Chloe recalled. She stood up, he eyes narrowed, again, as she stammered “You… you… YOU! “

“Yes… ME!“ Kevin claimed proudly. “Hang on… me what?” he questioned, feeling slightly confused.

You…” Chloe repeated.

Yes… me??” Kevin questioned.

“You left that pool of oil next to my car on Tuesday, it was YOU!!!” Chloe said angrily.

“Well…” is all Kevin could muster.

“I was on my way to an important meeting… wearing a while skirt…I slipped in that pool of oil… you ruined my skirt… YOU are Kevin Jones… YOU!!!” Chloe fumed.

“Well…” Kevin repeated.

“Well????” Chloe demanded.

“Well… well you couldn’t get my name right… not even one letter!” said Kevin desperately and awkwardly as he shuffled slowly backwards out of her cubicle where he bumped into Brian and Harry who had made their way to the scene of the morning’s excitement. He turned around to face their beaming faces, smiled limply and exhaled “Heeeyyyyy guys…”

“So Kevin, how was the run this morning?” Brian excitedly asked. “Yes, do tell, how did you get on?” Harry chirped eagerly.

Kevin stared wide eyed at them, his mind racing trying to figure out what to say. “Ah, about that…” he said, buying time. “Yes, about that….” He continued, stretching his credit. “Guys, I gotta to be honest with you…” He took a deep breath, thought about their bet, swallowed his pride and a large chunk of self-respect, smiled and bellowed, “It was awesome, I really started something great here, you guys should take a leaf out of my book, it was a breeze, I loved it, feel great, new man, coffee?”

Chloe watched them disappeared down the corridor. “A runner!” she whispered, smiling just a little, “I never would have guessed.”

© Andrew Tully, 2014

It was an early summer’s morning and as the sun crept over distant mountains illuminating the rolling hills and parcelled fields that she called home Mariah looked west, deep out into the Atlantic where she would soon plough through weeks of fair and foul sea to start a new life.

Her house sat close to the road, on one corner of the village crossroads, opposite the blacksmith’s forge that sat across the quay road that led to the sea. The gable ends of both buildings faced away from the sea and towards the road that led out of the village, towards Dromgallagh hill rising in the distance, it stretched north to south almost separating the village from the outside world. Claggan village felt insulated, and safe, and it was home to Mariah for the first 18 years of her life. Today she would leave forever.

As she peered out of the cracked glass of the bedroom she shared with her siblings, chin resting on her hands, she should see a distant silhouette walking through swirling dust clouds kicked up by summer sea breezes from dirt roads baked in the hot summer sun. It could be her Uncle, or a friend, perhaps her teacher or even their land agent coming to bid farewell to another departure for today she would leave forever.

In the stillness of that moment her eyes drifted, connecting with the unseen entities of her surroundings, the things she would probably never see again and it filled her heart with sorrow. The diagonal crack in the corner of her bedroom window whose angle changed as she grew taller, the chipped paint on the window frame that formed patterns only she could see, the shadows cast by trees that danced in the wind and continually changed as they grew and the seasons changed, the sleepy cat stretching in the morning sun, the distant chatter of livestock in their fields, the warmth of family and a home that she took for granted would soon be distant memories for today she would leave forever.

Her mother called from the kitchen downstairs. The smell of freshly made porridge and tea wafted up the narrow stairway the led from the kitchen to the two small bedrooms upstairs. Mariah turned to look at the collection blankets scattered around the room that entombed her sleeping siblings. Stepping gingerly between the folds she left the room and descended the old wooden staircase and entered the kitchen. Her mother had covered the heavy oak table a clean sheet and laid out the few pieces of cutlery and crockery she had. She was busy cooking on the open fire as Mariah stepped onto the well-worn stone kitchen floor. She stood there for a moment, looking past her mother and out through the open door that led to the yard where her father was returning from the outhouses with an urn full of fresh milk and eggs for breakfast. The morning sun now hung low in the sky, the same sun she would see rising from a different home on a different continent for today she would leave forever.

© Andrew Tully, 2014