Angst, cloaked in her darkened shroud, woven of table positions and embroidered with player statistics, slips once more into the heart of the ardent Socceroos supporter.
Denial is her meat, ignorance her drink.
She avoids the heavily guarded entrance of headlines and pundits, preferring the unlocked window of squad selections and away venues.
‘Tis the brave who embrace her cold touch, who can bear the soft whisperings; “Aminiiiiiiiiiiiii.” The fearful stop their ears, huddled behind papier mache shields of bravado and defiance.
She cares not, for World Cup qualifications are a favoured hunting ground and a feast awaits.
A bellow echoes off the walls of the hallway. The challenger is heavily armoured, with layers of limited imagination and wielding a vuvuzela of obfuscation.
“Ziga, Zaga, Ziga, Zaga, Oi, Oi, Oi,” he roars.
Angst pulls her cowl tighter and steps into a darkened room, reappearing in the shadows behind the dullard.
“Form, injuries, cohesion,” she whispers into his ear and steps back into the gloom.
Doubt flickers across the challenger’s plain features and rust spots appear upon his armour as the narrative takes hold. His vuvuzela drops to his side, tassles limp and lifeless.
Angst allows a tight smile of professional satisfaction to briefly soften her sharp features as she watches the narrative spread. This one will make a fine meal indeed.
A soft touch makes her start and she spins, dagger drawn. “Iran ’97, pitch conditions, referee”, she spits.
Angst finds herself staring into calm, green eyes. Raven hair pulled back in a ponytail, with laugh lines etching the corner of the eyes.
“Emotions, rollercoaster, fun,” replies the woman, her 1991 spew shirt drawing Angst closer. “Angst,” she whispers, arms reaching.
Angst hisses and pulls herself away from the impending embrace. This is a lover, there is no feed to be had here.
She pulls her cloak about her and steps back further into the shadows.
“Iraq in Tehran,” she barks from the darkness.
“March 24,” the woman huskily replies.
Stuart Thomas
Expert
It was great to read the final third Ben. Poetic, disturbing and potentially prophetic. Sleepless nights ahead. Ange under pressure despite his wonderful record.
jupiter 53
Guest
Beautiful work. International angst and I go back a long way. She has held me closest at the MCG in 1997, but she was a constant companion until 2005 at the Olympic Stadium. Since then she has been more distant, but domestic angst knows me well also. She most recently took my breath away at the second leg of SFC's round of 16 match last season. "Don't ever get cocky" she snarled as she ground her heel into my face.
pacman
Guest
If we progress jb, we will find the dark passages of doubt becoming narrower and narrower.
Newcastle
Guest
LOL> I like it. Very poetic
j binnie
Guest
Ben - An amusing, if not convoluted comment, which I am afraid the majority of readers here will struggle to "get" the content. You are obviously a "Socceroo man" and in that guise are showing some doubts over the success or failure of upcoming games. Let us hope the ghouls of your mind are banished en masse, so allowing for continued advancement up through the dark passages of doubt. Cheers jb.
Paul Nicholls
Roar Guru
Nice one Ben. I hope Angst Poste-cowl-glou gets his act together or he might just get a tap on the shoulder.