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The Sun

Allan Onik

    The journalist stood up in the press conference. “Is it a sure thing now? This is your last win? Your last season? Jermain “The Tank” will no longer be running back for the Los Angeles Sharks?”
    “It’s official,” Jermain said, “It’s my time to go. My muscles are starting to weaken, and I want to end it while things are still going fairly well. Its been a great run with The Sharks. We won two Super Bowls. I got to meet The President. I made connections in Hollywood and brothers on this team. But now the fog is clearing. The Sun is rising. Today, the last game of the season, is the last game of my career. Thank you.”
    The journalists frantically tried to ask more questions as Jermain left the podium. He exited the stadium in his Rolls Royce. The Paparazzi followed him.

    Jermain sat in the club. He sipped a Jack and Coke. His bodyguard sat next to him. Paparazzi camera lights flashed repeatedly around him.
    “What are you going to do with yourself, now that you’re not in the game anymore?” The bodyguard asked. He had a spikey tattoo running up his arm, and was heavily muscled.
    “I saved half the money from my last contract. I’m going to invest in an annuity, and buy myself a super yacht. I’m going to spend the rest of my life traveling the world with my full yacht crew. You’re welcome to come too! I could use some protection out there.”
    “And to think,” The guard said, “You started out in the poor sector of Brooklyn. Your mother was poor, and you didn’t mind it there aside from a little rough and tumble. The streets and the game were a way of life for you.”
    “I’ve come a long way,” Jermain said, “It’s been a long, hard road. There was a lot of confusion and darkness, and a lot of fear and strife. There were some days I wasn’t sure if The Night would end—if The Sun would ever shine again. I had to work hard and scared for a long time. But look at me now! The Sun is shining brighter than ever before. I feel like a child in a field, playing in innocence—the warmth is overwhelming. I’ve been healed! And now I have a great family. Kids, a wife, more money than God, fame, and a sense of well being.”
    “You’ve done very well for yourself, Tank,” the guard said, “You should be proud.”
    The Paparazzi cameras continued to flash. Jermain downed his Jack and Coke.
    “Would you like to go now?” The guard asked.
    “Of course,” Jermain said, “What time is it?”
    “6:00 a.m.—bright and early.”
    The two walked out followed by the sea of Paparazzi. The parking lot was gone—replaced by a field with horses, children, and sunflowers. The Sun shone brightly overhead.



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