A Dignified Exit

Everything slowed as he saw the other guy pulling his arm back ready to launch the punch. 

This was it, decision time. He could bob and weave, duck and dive, and maybe land a lucky one on the way up, followed by a world of trouble, or he could take it and go down and have to live with himself. Either way, he was done and there would be no way back.

He’d let himself be drawn into the wrong crowd since school, and so another mob taking over his career hadn’t seemed like such a big deal until someone mentioned he might actually not be so bad at the fight game, if he could just stay alive long enough to learn some craft and guile. And then there had been a swarm of men wanting to manage him, promote him, fleece him. He was the golden boy, the meal ticket.

And eventually he’d wondered which fights he’d won and which had been thrown, like this one was supposed to be. This time it was his turn to go down, they said, no big deal, it’ll come around again. In the third. Big money on this one, son.

Everything had slowed down but him. He could look around and see the baying punters, spitting rage and murder, the lights glaring down, grilling like he was in an interrogation. His corner had turned away, resigned and disinterested.

Still the punch hadn’t landed.

He could imagine Susie later and her accusing stare, whichever way this went. He’d be a coward or a fool in her eyes, regardless. Food for her endless spite. It was a weakness that he was still with her, he knew that, and hated himself for it - but there it was. We can’t all be masters of our destiny, even if he had always known he could just walk out. And keep going.

One way or another, things would have to change.

And it would have to be him. 

The baying crowd would forget him in an instant, the mob would lean on some other mug, and his corner would soon find the next great white hope.

Susie? Well Susie could go and please herself, which is what she would do anyway. 

In the end it came down to number one, to take the dive or go for the knock-out himself. 

He saw the glove now slowly fill his vision as he leaned into his right.

And then the blow landed hard.