That's it, broken, like a boxer who's had one fight too many.
"How did that happen?"
Because, last night, I was a boxer who had one fight too many.
It started, just as I closed my eyes. I was training in the old gym, alone. Everyone else had gone, but I wanted some extra practice.
It was peaceful and tranquil in a way.
But I heard a sound. It sounded like some wood had fallen to the ground.
Was it the cleaner?
It was the cleaner.
That was until he put everything down and put on some boxing gloves.
*Come on," he said.
I got into the ring. One punch later, I was on the floor.
That was it. The moment I realised that I was not going to make it as a boxer. My one fight too many had come in the training gym, with the cleaner
But that's not really the story. That was the dream that made me realise that I was in the right place with the wrong path.
The next morning, I went to back to the gym.
"Where's the cleaner?" I asked.
"There he is."
I approached him.
*What's your story?" I asked.
"I clean."
"Any other hidden talents?"
The cleaner stood silent.
"When everyone has gone, you can show me," I said.
I know in my wisdom, that I better use a headguard.
That was three years ago. In a few moments, my fighter will be making the walk to the ring for his world title fight. I hope I've prepared him well.
Thank you for reading. Inspired by watching Rocky movies. What's wrong with that?
Freewrite, prompt by @mariannewest