Life Again
Flora stood with her arms crossed, watching Tony butcher his form yet again. Her patience had officially worn thin.
"That's not how you hold the damn weights, Tony," she said, her voice laced with exasperation.
Tony, a cocky twenty-something who thought lifting was all about brute strength, flashed her a smirk through the mirror. "Relax, Coach. I got this."
Flora raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to him. "Yeah? You sure? 'Cause if you keep swinging them dumbbells like that, you're gonna blow out your shoulder. And I don't do injuries on my watch."
He faltered for a second, adjusting the weight in his hands. "It's really not that bad."
"Oh, great. Do it your way," she invited. "And when you are icing that arm later, then don't come crying to me."
Tony muttered something
