Friday, 18 November 2011

The assassin...

I was at the gym doing some boxing. That means I put on my boxing gloves, smack bags around and sweat a lot. There is this man I see quite a bit. I’ll be honest. He’s not someone I’d want to come across in a dark alley as my super power of being mouthy wouldn’t save me. He walks in a restrained, if-you-look-sideways-at-me-I’ll-kill-you kind of way. He boxes with bare knuckles and kick boxes bare footed. He slams the bags so hard that I can almost hear them crying in terror. In essence, he’s a scary dude. I tend to believe he’s an assassin.

I had never heard him speak until yesterday. I was punching stuff and he walked in. He looked at me. I smiled in that please-don’t-kill-me-way-I-have-a-new-sofa-arriving-tomorrow-kind-of-way. And then he spoke. It was low and contained, as you’d expect from an assassin – and British – very, very British and quite wry. I did a double take. It was not what I expected. Oh yeah, he’s an assassin all right.


anny cook said...

Yum. Did you get a name? It would be interesting to know what his name is. I have a theory about names and occupations so it would be nice to know if my theory worked.

Julia Rachel Barrett said...

Oh yeah, you nailed him. Ask him if you can make him a character in one of your stories? I would.

Sandra Cox said...

Good for you for boxing.
Good for the assassin for boxing and kickboxing:)
No bare anything for me, I wear shin guards, and wrist wraps under my boxing gloves:)