The Boy with the Blue eyes
The young man wiped his brow with his handkerchief for what seemed like the 100th time. His palms were sweaty. The T-Shirt which proclaimed loud and clear of “Being Human” was already drenched in sweat. It seemed like the longest day of the year to him. He had hardly slept the night before in anticipation of the next day. And on the next day had woken up at 3 AM just after an hour of shutting his eyes. His head was throbbing with a headache the likes of which he had never experienced before. He kept on checking his mobile phone every couple of minutes for any new call or message, which would put him out of this misery. The cacophony around him was enough to drive anyone over the edge He was not alone. He was surrounded by hundreds of others just like him, all jostling for the same goal. Suddenly someone tugged at his jeans. He thought it was a pick-pocket and got ready to grab someone’s hand and punch him in the face. After all he already had his ...