Author's Note: Man of Tai Chi was such a brilliantly shot and directed film, that it inspired me to write this short piece as a tribute.
Disclaimer: I don't own Man of Tai Chi.
"Slow down," his Master instructed him. "Slower,"
His brows knit together as he tried to better focus on his arms' movements.
"I can't," he breathed, a worried look about him.
Keep it, he told himself.
Contain it.
Suppress it.
The energy building up inside him, it wouldn't dissipate. Wouldn't dissolve.
It would linger.
It would fester.
It would expand until it consumed him. And there was nothing he could do with this new-found energy, but feed it.
He didn't know where it came from. Didn't know how it got there.
But it taunted him.
It begged him to give in, and release it.
Sometimes he'd even wonder; 'what would happen if he uncaged the tiger inside him?'
But he couldn't think like that. Couldn't let himself go.
Not while in the presence of his Master.
He shook his head and tried calming himself to retry the exercise.
This will be a long day, he realized.