Day Three 100 Word Flash Fiction – Pugilist

We dance around, trading steps,
canvas bounces under our feet.
Jab, one, two, three.
Guard up, head down,
the burn of the rope against my back.
Punches blur lost in a haze of noise.
The man in black screams at me,
asks if I can still fight.
I nod my head blood on my brow,
he comes in again we trade our blows,
Sweat… Confusion… Pain…¬†Eyes wild,
we beg inside for the bell.
He lunges a punch goes wide,
I end it with a hook to the jaw
down and counted out.
Arm raised I am a God tonight

Nick Davis

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