the morning fight. // life - Lograh — LiveJournal
10:39 - the morning fight. // life
He was big. Larger than my previous opponents, that was without doubt. Looking up at his towering bulk I had begun to wonder if this would be my last battle. We approached each-other cautiously, each of us sizing up the other. I had to admit, his armor was impressive. Brilliant white, blindingly so, with hard edges everywhere. Trying to land a hit on him was going to be a trick.
We went through the usual opening maneuvers. The traditional dance steps. A little to the left, a little to the right. Searching for any weakness or gap in the opposing defense. A quick jab. A duck and dodge. I had to admit, it was going to make for a tough match.
Then I thought I had him. I saw what appeared at the time to be an opening. I lunged in, hoping to land a fatal blow, but he saw me coming and retaliated much quicker than I ever would have expected. His blow caught me right across the eye, blinding me and sending me reeling in pain. I staggered around, trying to keep my feet and clear the watering from my eyes, while he looked on taunting me. I could hear his jeers and laughter, knowing that I would be done for if I didn't regain my stance.
I managed to get back to my feet, clearing one eye enough that I could make out his menacing form before me. I kept shaking the tears from my face, desperately keeping my one good eye open so I could track his throws and do my best to avoid him landing a blow. We go one like this for what seems an eternity, him lazily throwing swings that glance off my side, till finally I catch him off-guard. I knew my moment had come. I jump in right as his side is exposed and land a solid hit. A crushing blow that knocked him down. I didn't make the same mistake he did. I jumped right on him and sank another hit through his protection.
At this point I knew I had him. He kept trying hits, but with less and less energy each time. I realized that while he was impressive in bulk, he had no endurance. The fight wore on, but while my attacks were a constant barrage upon him, his returns were ever weaker and slower. Finally, after all was said and done, beaten down to a defenseless prone position on the ground, I knew he was no longer a threat. I couldn't bring myself to finish him off. He had been a worthy opponent, and I simply couldn't bring myself to end it. I turned then, and left him there behind me.
Taking my scars with me, I will always remember the day I ate the donut.
My eye still hurts, though.