A Steady Situation 2, Part 5

The whistle nearly tore out all of his sinews. The screaming and cheering forced his soul out his nose.

Dodge 1. Roaring.

Dodge 2. Rancour.

Strike 1, barely registered. Hit somewhere on his abdomen. Jeering.

False swing. His heart pounded. No contact with his opponent. Heart eased.

Swing, swing, swung,

A bag of meat hung, can’t ever be stung.

Parry 1. To be fumbled. Maybe a red ribbon for the crowd?

The ground’s thirsty, slake it.

I’m going to give you another false swing, will you strike me in return?

Dodge 3, go for hunting, bring back the bunting.

Strike 2, I’m smelling the air- swipe my legs.

For holding back all the crying and screaming, I’m sure it’s on the inside where most of the damage is, anyway.