MY WORLD - The touch of her skin

“Oh Eden. Things are just too chummy here.” Abel yawns and stretches out his lanky legs from the bench, deathly white apart from the kneecaps. Identical sneakers squeak against the gymnasium floor as students of both teams chase the Audrhil-marked ball, the ceiling lights glaring down on them. The burgundy-white shorts and tees flash by Eden’s eyes and momentarily swirl into polka lollipops when player’s bodies collide. He leans over his knees and rests his chin against his hand, blinking the lollipops apart. So hungry.

“In my old school, let me tell you, it wasn’t PE unless somebody’s hair was set on fire.” Abel continues absentmindedly, half facing Eden’s way with a smirk.

“Abel, shut up for once...” The third bench-sitter sighs.

“But it’s true. Every simple game of ball was a battle of pride back then.” Abel remembers fondly. “Anybody could become king.”

Or get their hair set on fire... Eden ponders, eyes still dully flicking from side to side.