Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt. Not sure how to participate? Here are the steps to get started. Champion
Old Dennis finally laid himself down in the four poster bed, a bed too big for an elderly, shrivelled up man. It was 10 in the morning and he had already finished all the chores he could think of. He had even grudgingly watered the front lawn, all the while swearing like a sailor at the sound of his neighbours talking. People! Why did they have to be so damn jolly all the time, he thought. Old Dennis especially hated the little leprechaun of a man who lived on his right- he was too limber and ginger-haired for his own good! What did he have to prance around for, offering old folks like himself jobs at his ruddy no good office. 

A few minutes after ruminating over the ways he could scare his neighbour off, old Dennis put on his glasses and reached out under the mattress for a book. Then he did a strange thing- he opened the book and sniffed it. Tears sprang up in his eyes. He looked at the first page for a while and kept repeating one name in his mind. Pyrra. He dried up his tears and could finally see clearly the hastily stuck, moulding photograph of two kids – hair tangled with each other’s- laughing carelesslessly in the middle of a playground. One, a beautiful girl who prided herself for having a dear friend whom she could love and protect with all her heart; the other, a chubby boy with an innocent smile and wild long hair, who was happy to simply be in the former’s company. Pyrra had always made him feel loved, whether it be by making him laugh on a gloomy day or by finishing up his assignments -several years after the day in the photograph- when he fell short. Old Dennis carefully turned each page, stopping and smiling ruminiscently after every turn. The nostalgic scent of his memories overwhelmed him. He missed his saviour, his protector, his Pyrra. Though his vision was blurry he could still identify the fire in the eyes of the girl in the photographs. A 110 pound teenage girl who wasn’t afraid of punching people twice her size if they dared to make fun of her friend. Old Dennis could see it in front of his eyes like it was only yesterday- an angry, fuming Pyrra stomping towards the big boned Craig, in the middle of the football field and dragging him by the ears to make him apologise for teasing Dennis about his long curly hair and short stature. Pyrra would go to any lengths to shield Dennis from the evil in the world, for where Dennis saw his only chance for one true love, she saw her only chance at having a little brother. It had been 45 years since Old Dennis saw Pyrra.  45 years since that fateful day when her father had a transfer and took her with him, away from poor little Dennis. But for the 10 years he had known Pyrra, she had been his world, his champion.

Old Dennis heaved himself off the bed, picked up the slumbering cat and went out the door to talk to the ruddy leprechaun about the hours he would have to spend locked up in that insane office of his. 

Daily prompt: Champion


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