This week’s prompt from Stories From The Jukebox is Louis Armstrong’s What A Wonderful World
The Pugilist
The punch flew in sidewards. He saw skies of blue, clouds of white, trees of green and red roses too as well as the proverbial stars in all the colours of the rainbow, as spittle flew from his mouth and he hit the cobbles of the alley for the third time. This time he led there. He’d had enough. He remembered when he was able to take this shit for hours upon hours, but that was ten or more years ago. He had been a prize fighter then, but now he was just a brawler that fought in alleyways behind bars for lesser men to bet on.
As the count of ten slowly progressed he heard the sound from a jazz band down the street. It was a woman who was belting out a great version of Louis’s “What a wonderful world”. He pondered his life. It had been a wonderful world. He had been loved. He had enjoyed bright blessed days and oh some awesome sacred nights with some awesome women. In his heyday the world was all his. Now, as he lay in the gutter listening to the count, he realised that there were children out there who would learn more than he would ever know about how to survive in this city. Or at least he hoped so.
At the count of ten he slowly lifted himself on to his hands and knees then to his haunches. He spat out a tooth along with a glob of blood and smiled his infamous gappy smile.
“Hey mate, how are you doing?” The young opponent held out his hand. He took it and stood, wobbling slightly.
“Well done, son. Congratulations. You are going to be my last fight.” With that he slapped the younger man on the back and together they sauntered through the gambling crowd and into the dirty spit and sawdust bar at the other end of the block to the jazz bar. They sat side by side bloodied and bruised showing the world that this is how certain men express love for each other; that it truly was a wonderful world if you looked at it the right way.
===========================================================================
These posts are free but you are welcome to Buy Me a Coffee or similar
Stories From The Jukebox, here’s hoping this becomes a habit of mine as I am really enjoying these
It's all a matter of perspective, then... Very well done. I liked how the younger fighter was worried about his opponent.
Great story Diane, I love this!