It’s a bitterly cold winter morning in New Castle Upon Tyne, UK. The roads are snowed out by 10 inches. Elvis needs to get to work. His job as a newspaper boy entails waking up at 4 AM, picking up the newspapers from the dealer and dropping them at each doorstep before 6 AM, in the Heaton neighbourhood.

The alarm rings at ten minutes to four. Elvis never takes a day off from work, but today is one such day when he wants to crawl back to bed and sleep in late. After all, his girlfriend Gloria is visiting from Ireland and, he hasn’t seen her in over a year. She lies curled up next to him, her flawless skin touching his bare chest and her soft curls falling across her face and slender shoulders.

Elvis is tempted to call in sick. He grabs his phone from the bedside table and calls Ricardo, his Boss. “Ric, I’m down with a flu,” Elvis croaks in a barely audible voice. Ric on the other end of the receiver gruff, “Damn Elvis, you’ve chosen a wrong day to fall sick. Get your ass right here to work. Matt is traveling and you need to cover up for him as well.” Elvis wants to bang the receiver that very moment, but better sense prevails and he pleads, trying his best to sound as sick as a dog. Ric is a tough boss and is known to give his employees a hard time when he deems fit. But, for some odd reason, he gives in today. “Elvis is a sincere worker and he does sound genuinely sick,” he thinks. ” Let me figure someone to proxy in his place.”  “Alright, Elvis, rest if you must. I’ll see you tomorrow. Flu or no flu,” Ric says aloud and hangs up.

Elvis is relieved and thrilled at the same time. He snuggles up to Gloria and starts playing with her silky hair. Gloria opens her eyes and smiles at him sleepily. “Aren’t you off to work, Hon?” “No baby, I just decided to take an off” says Elvis as he continues to trail his fingers down her collar-bone, planting gentle kisses.

It’s 7AM and they are done making passionate love, and hungry as hell. This time for breakfast. So they quickly change and step out for breakfast at the nearest café. As they walk out of the driveway in their parka, Elvis runs ahead of Gloria, his galoshes digging deep into the snow. He grabs a handful of snow and makes a big snow ball, throwing it at her. Gloria squeals and runs after him, grabbing him from the back and pulling him into the snow.

 As they lie in the wet snow; giggling and laughing, an SUV comes to a screeching halt, right next to them, barely missing them by inches. A face peers out of the windshield, looking back at them menacingly. Elvis’s face turns ashen. Gloria clutches his hand and thanks their stars for the narrow escape. Ric gets out of the car and looks at them sternly, and before Elvis can even begin to explain, Ric burst out into a loud raucous laugh. He laughs for almost two minutes.

Elvis and Gloria heave a sigh of relief. And then suddenly, out of the blues Ric roars , “Elvis you are fired.”

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This is my fiction entry for the third day of #Barathon 2017, the fornight-long blogging marathon, organised by Blog-A-Rhythm. Today’s prompt is ‘Of Men and Ice’