‘I like to drink tea,’ he said, ‘would you be my for two?’
The cold emanated from within. It spread from deep in his gut. Expanding up and down his torso to his arms and legs. It rose up his neck and filled his head like a glass bowl. Cold, and yet it brought sweat. Tiny beads of salt water appeared on is forehead. The cold within, now worked its way out. His skin felt like ice. It was pallid, the only tones made from grey.
He rubbed his hands together and felt their clammy texture. He rubbed them together, trying to rid them of the false damp feeling. Was he shaking? Yes, only just perceptible but it was there. Again coming from his gut. It was like his body had an engine inside, running, humming and juddering, waiting to release its full potential.
His mouth was dry. He swallowed, nothing. He ran his tongue round the inside of his mouth, trying to get the saliva moving. Nothing. He would need a glass of water. But he had forgotten to bring one. He dry gulped again.
He lifted his eyes and looked. He saw the three hundred or so school children seated in the hall before him. He hated public speaking, but as headmaster, assembly was his responsibility.
This is a short piece of Fiction. Written in Fifteen minutes, on a Friday. Unedited