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The Final Whistle

“He strolled down, one step at a time, counting every step, mind torn into thousand pieces.
Looking up with eyes filled with determination, the referee’s whistle kissing his lips so tenderly, Benji knew this was the moment he had dreamt of in a thousand dreams, dreams of glory, of satisfaction so powerful he could taste the sweetness, like honeydrops from an angel’s fingers.
The distance seemed eternal, so far yet so near.
He looked around him, the silence enveloping his very thoughts, tearing through his brain like a scissors in a mad man’s hands.
He closed his eyes, conjuring up the dream of Thursday, seeing the trophy glistening in the rays of the Sun.
He knew this was the moment, the moment of truth, the moment when all the pieces come together.
He was going to take it, nothing would stand in his way.
As he reached out to pick the ball, he woke up, for it was yet another dream. .”

“The Final Whistle” – Lorenzo Cupenzo