Sometimes we forge ahead with no real direction in mind. Sometimes we drag our feet not wanting to go in any direction at all. And sometimes we just fall over into a rut, not able or unsure how to climb back out. This is a quick little detailing of how boxing saved a failing friendship from fizzling out. WARNING: there will be no technical terms. I probably will have most (all) of the boxing terms wrong for we are beginners. We throw our punches wildly; we move our bodies slowly. We tire quickly.
Pumpkin is staring over at her opponent through the slits in her protective headgear. Small, tight movements to the left, back to center, to the right. Jump, keep the legs loose, right foot forward, right foot back. All to sense how Wok Wok would react. Left? Right? Offense? Defense? She stands steady and center. No movements. Tricky, that Asian. Pumpkin didn't know how to approach this, didn't know how to approach The Statue, as she was known. Pumpkin's arms dropped in confusion. She glanced past the rings. Gazing on all those spectators watching. All those who came for excitement. All those who came to see a fight between best friends. Well, lets give 'em what they want. Pumpkin turns her head and attention back the Wok Wok, the Statue. But she was gone. Gone really meant that in two great leaps Wok Wok had bounded across the ring and was hurling a nice cross hook into Pumpkin's head! Best Friend indeed. Bright bulbs of white fade to rage, red, red rage. Sneaky, that Asian.
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