Marc of Bright Glory

“Marc of Bright Glory”

Not much was left of the cake he had eaten from the night before. That would actually make two mysteries, one about the cake and the other about the semi-curved pottery that was indulging his sense of curiosity. Although he wished to understand, there was not much he could do at the moment, there were more pressing issues to be dealt with.

Marc arose from his cleanly-pressed sheets taking note of the polka dot pattern that he had always loved. “It’s a gift from your mother” he remembers her exclaiming with an almost patronizing contentment that honestly irked him at some level. It’s not that he did not appreciate the gift, and quite honestly he loved the pattern those polka dots displayed as they splayed across the bed when it was neatly pressed and kempt. The myriad of smaller intricate patterns that his mind perceived when staring at them gave him a temporal respite from the exposed parts of his kitchen wall. “It’s not what she said, it’s how she said it” he ruminated.

But that was neither here nor there, because he was neither here nor there. He was in Holland. “Those sheets, those crazy sheets; what are the f*ing odds that this hotel has the same damn sheets!” he said as he distilled his ire by shaking his fist. He stood there next to the bed, cast his gaze in the direction of the adjacent bathroom and caught his reflection standing against himself in the living room. His tall, slender frame ensconced in a blue hotelier’s robe provided by the inn. His hair was a parted blond, the wave of which arched in parallel to the rims of his thinly-framed metal glasses. His eyes were quite penetrating. Hands at his side, he stood erect as he gazed deeply at himself, a statue of himself for all time. His grandest feature, he thought, was his stance.

Given to his own thoughts, he stood and stared a while. It was a good place for him, in his thoughts, with a reflection that couldn’t possibly annoy from this angle. “Marc” he thought. “Marc, Marc, Marc,” slowly annunciating the last sound calling into question the foundation of his existence and if, by some chance, he had fallen short of his truest potential because of his name. As he annunciated his name with increasing fortition, he derived some sense of self-loathing about that name. It was a positive name, it was his grandfather’s name. Grandpa’s name was spelled Mark. “Why Marc?” Good grief, it was probably another ‘gift from his mother!’ That’s what she’d say, alright. “That blasted woman!” “That confounded woman!” Deep down he loved her.

He was not without a sense of sarcasm and irony. The same woman who had named her son Marc, missing the mark on inheriting his grandfather’s spelling, had also named him Hrothbeorht. It was his middle name! With a true sense of alacrity, his friends never let him live that one down. Not much social currency there. As he stood affixed on the image of Hrothbeorht, majestic stance in all of its blue-robed glory, he wondered if he could have been some ancient prophet. Or, perhaps, a warrior! He would certainly love to go and wreak havoc on all those who had ridiculed his name. “I’d charge in” he spoke, as he pressed forward a step, creating his best and most ferocious pose. “I’ll lay waste to ye and ye foul mouths!” he commanded in his best and most ancient warrior approximation. Gravelly and determined, he lurched forward thrusting his almighty sword outward against the day that was about to begin. He’d vowed to never forget this moment. It was his bright and glorious moment.

Feeling revived and unafraid, he set out to find the airport once again. Bikes and row houses were nice, however, they didn’t aid his sense of direction. Neither did the sweet-smelling air, the brick cobble, and the smiling faces – all of which he appreciated, none of which appealed to his pragmatic sense of time. “My flight is at 2:00 pm.” He inundated himself.

Finally arriving at the airport, he distinctly smelt ash. Avoiding it, it crept back into his nostrils as if to remind him of something. Undeterred, he strode ever so anciently towards his destination. Feeling a sense of sword-thrusting confidence, his gaze outward of his metal-framed glasses seemed to set the backdrop for his epic adventure to Norway. Moving his frames left, he could capture whatever lurked inside the spectacle of his gaze; panning right, he could claim all that was surveyed before him. “I’ll lay waste to ye and ye foul mouths!” he postured to all that were unaware of the man of the blue hotelier’s robe named Marc, with a C.

“How are you today bright glory?” came a voice unexpected. “Excuse me?” Marc said in a meek and unsure tone. “Yes, how are you bright glory?” “Quite a day today!” said the man behind the counter with a jovial grin, revealing his gumline which was, according to Marc’s standards, an asynchronous pattern which revealed the angular misfortune of this man’s teeth.

“Hi, my name is Marc . . .” he began. “Yes, yes Marc of bright glory.” “It’s not often I see such an ancient name” he said in a homely and convivial tone, once again revealing the inharmonious nature of his teeth. “Your name means ‘bright glory,’ Hrothbeorht.” Feeling a little put on the spot, the brave and ancient warrior gave quarter. “How’s that?” Hrothbeorht meekly queried?

“Your name Hrothbeorht means ‘bright glory’” “It’s an ancient Norse name and since you were heading to Norway, it seemed only natural.” Trying to grasp the moment, Hrothbeorht’s metal frames captured the name of the man behind the checkout counter, he may need to defend his honor after all. Who is this person behind the counter? “Oswin” his name tag read. “Oh-swine!” he thought in his head, “oh yeah, how I’d love to call him that!” as if redoubling against the cruel, thrusting jests of his youth.

Offering the man a chance to redact, Hrothbeorht spoke: “Oswin.” Once again revealing his teeth and gums as if they represented the ancient crags and waterways of their ancient homeland, the man reaffirmed. “Ja, my name is Oswin, it was a gift from my mother.”

I hope this article has benefited you! Thank you for reading this article and being a part of NOW-Power! SHARE THIS USING THE ICONS BELOW AND MANIFEST GREATLY!