• PF Legge

Not happy winning.

Editing prose and writing poetry a fair bit now. And working. And coaching football. Won our first league game today which is a relief. The young men on our team were not that pleased as we did not win by a lot. I implored them to enjoy it, but they stayed quiet. The realization came that they are becoming like me. Which I think is good and bad. We’ll see next week as we are playing a superior opponent. Nothing to do but keep working.

Here’s the first few paragraphs of a short story I wrote in the summer:

He was on his hands and knees now. Head clearing, nose hurting, his eyes were coming into focus. He saw his blood as it dripped onto the mat. If he didn’t get to his feet, they would haul him up to finish and if he lost this fight he’d have to fight someone else within the hour. Then he would probably lose again, and they would throw him out on the street.

Rasede got up and wobbled to the ropes. He put both hands on the top one and tilted his head back. Blood flowed down his throat and he coughed and choked, spraying red liquid into the air. When he looked down he saw the angry face of Skorny, one of the master trainers. His striking trainer, Dilisi, was behind him. His look was one of pure scorn.

Losers didn’t get credit for trying hard at House Vlaton. No moral victories Not here…

Water splashed on his face and a rough towel scrubbed away the blood, sparking a searing pain in his nose. He felt a hand grab his chin and push his head one way and then the other.

“You’ll live. Its not badly broken. We’ll set it after. Now get back out there and finish that bastard.”

Dilisi croaked out the words. He was punched in the throat or something, years ago. Then his trainer slapped Rasede’s face. His nose stung and his eyes watered.

“You in there Rasede? You going to fight?"

He nodded and brought his hands up.

“Then go do it.”

Reading: Lord of Emperors by Guy Gavriel Kay Ridiculously well written.

Listening to: Death Comes to Pemberly by PD James Audiobook of a murder mystery set in the aftermath of Jane Austin’s Pride and Prejudice. Weird. Don’t know what to think of it.




55 Thorncrest Crescent, London, Ontario  N6J 1K4

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