Anna
I extend my arm and punch. I do the same with the other. Punch, punch. Left, right. Again and again until I tire. The metal swings the punching bag away from me then back, away from me, then back again. I dance on my tip toes, left, right, left, right, punch, punch. Seconds, minutes, hours pass, I don't pay attention to the time.
It's the only time I don't.
Mickey, the owner of the training center I am profusely sweating in, comes up from behind me, I see him before he speaks, I feel his movement before he even makes it.
I was trained to.
"Looking good Anna but keep your elbows up."
I nod and do as ordered, then try again.
Punch, punch, left, right.
Sweat slides down one side of my face and onto my collarbone. I can feel pressure rising form the bottom of my back and that'
