The Pugilists

(Photo by jfelias @ Morguefile )

The place was buzzing with an excitement that was palpable. The atmosphere was electric. An unceasing procession of premium cars regurgitating celebrities of all stripes and colours made for some dizzying viewing. The media was represented in full tilt and microphones were being thrust under both accommodating and angered noses at random. Fans and fanatics were buzzing around like a veritable horde of army ants, pushing, craning their necks, standing on their toes, all to catch a mere glimpse of their favourite persona.

Joanne sat across the happening luxury hotel, oblivious to the chaos and confusion punctuating the night. Nursing a dirty Martini, she clinked glasses with her husband Mervyn who was cradling his own drink, a Cherry Orange Old Fashioned.

“So, Anthony Joshua or Andy Ruiz?” asked Mervyn.

“Who cares”, Joanne answered. “There are better things in life than watching two grown- ups trying to change the dimensions of one another’s facial features.”

“You have a point” admitted Mervyn.

“At least we have the place to ourselves. This peace & quiet is a rarity. So let’s make the best use of it” said Joanne. “Cheers!”

“Cheers” replied Mervyn as they touched glasses yet again before downing their cocktails.

(Word Count: 199)

Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). Hosted by Donna McNicol . For more details visit HERE

To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, click HERE