Benny wasn't a wrestler. He had neither the desire nor inclination. But he always seemed to find himself in a wrestling match. He never stepped into the ring with the burly, boisterous men of professional wrestling or tussled Greco-Roman or freestyle wrestling style, but he always ended up on his back.
Each night, he found himself embroiled in battles that cage fighters would find exhausting. Every morning he woke up tired, disoriented, with bloodshot eyes, and a grumpy disposition his family knew to avoid until he had his coffee.
This morning was no different. His muse had won again.
Neville Hunt 3 months ago
Nice one Michael. It reminded me of years ago when to supplement my poor student income I worked as a building labourer. Every morning a permanent labourer of about 16 years of age, Johnny, wanted to wrestle with me (he called it wrassle), I guessed because I was a posh university student, whilst he had left school at 15. He always won (I wasn't by any means a wrestler and I didn't put up much of a fight) but after that, his honour had been satisfied and he was great friends for the rest of the day.
Drew Martyn 3 months ago
The unseen assailant, a tough fight that one! Good to know the coffee helped though :)
Michael D. Brooks 2 months ago
Thanks, guys. ☺