[The challenge today from The Daily Post is to write a story where each sentence begins with the same letter. So here’s what I’m gonna do — close my eyes, spin the keyboard, stop when the TV above me switches to a commerical, and press a key without looking. And the winner is . . . ]
He pulled the gray metal fencing mask over his ears. Head seeming far too large, the mask stuck at Butch’s ears.
“How’s this supposed to go on?” Heavy breathing accompanied Butch’s futile pulling.
“Hold on,” Butch’s hearing and vision too obstructed to know who was coming to his aid. Hands grabbed the heavy cloth bib at the front of the mask, pulled it forward then down, the gray metal descending like a curtain, returning him to the world of sight and sound.
“Hello!” Half a foot in front of Butch, Rune smiled in response.
“Have to pull out, as well as down. Has to fit tight on your head.” He tapped the top of Butch’s mask.
“He said the bottom fits under my chin,” Butch pointing to the Asian teen who had handed him the mask earlier.
“His name’s Juan.” How Joo-Won’s name was transformed by his Bark Bay teachers despite his efforts didn’t seem important to Rune at the momment. “However weird it may feel, that’s right, the bottom’s supposed to fit right under your chin, like a strap.”
“Huh.” He tugged hard on the mask, swallowed. “Heavens, it’s hard to see out of this thing!”
Haven struggled with masks for a year, Rune nodded. “Help is always a call away.”