Today is Wednesday-Friday! Thanks, Rochelle, for posting this picture of a boxing gym. We at Friday Fictioneers only know that because there are about a half-dozen signs telling us so. Thanks, J. Hardy Carroll for providing the picture. Now, for my 100-word story. Thanks to all who read and comment on my submissions.
Photo by J Hardy Carroll
The background music to Tessa’s life was filled with squealing tires, shouting men and boxing gloves thump, thump, thumping skin.
The characters who peopled her world were drunk, bruised and mean.
Helmets, ropes, mats, and bags provided the never-changing scene work.
Only when it snowed did she feel safe for the men couldn’t drive the unplowed streets nor navigate the sidewalks.
They couldn’t come upstairs and tease her mother nor play Tessa’s violin so violently the strings snapped.
And she felt secure in the knowledge that no one would grab her wheelchair and shove her across the room.
Up From the Ashes 