Worth A Thousand Words
A collection of drabbles based on words. Prompt: Palooka. Snake scowls at withheld information, and Alex feels pointless.
Disclaimer: I'm not feeling creative. See previous chapters.
Palooka, n.
1) An inexperienced or incompetent boxer
2) Oaf, lout
The Learning Curve
"Now raise your right hand up a litt— yes, just like that. Good." Snake got into position in front of his opponent, Cub. "Okay, since I know you've never boxed before, I'll go a little easy on you this time," said Snake.
"But Snake—"
"No, Cub. I don't want you getting hurt." Alex sighed, resigned.
"Fine. Ready when you are."
Snake rushed towards Alex in a flurry of movement. A minute later, Snake found himself wheezing facedown upon the mats.
"What was that!" Snake indignantly sputtered.
"I was trying to tell you that I'm a karate black belt!"
"God dammit."
Choices
It was the only thing Alex could say he was good at. Fighting.
He couldn't protect his friends. Sabina and Jack proved that.
He wasn't smart either. A smart person would have said no to Blunt. Would have finished those missions quickly and easily. Would have thought of a plan that let everyone survive.
He wouldn't think of going back to MI6.
So…fighting. He was already a black belt. Learning other martial arts should be fairly easy.
And maybe with that, he'd stop fumbling around with lives and worlds, and finally, finally be left to do what he could.
Review, so give me your ideas, questions, comments, concerns, criticisms, witticisms, and/or limericks!
Edits 9/15/14: Minor grammar fixes.