Saturday, July 13, 2013


I step into the ring and spy my opponent through red glassy eyes.  My vision blurred but I can still make out his pre-match moves . . . lightening fast compared to my own sluggishness.  I feel inadequate and ill equipped.  I fear the spectators will be disappointed.  
Somewhere I hear a bell ring and ‘Tiredness’ strikes me with his first blow.  Testing me, testing my strength, seeing what I am made of.  I shake my head and try to focus as I lunge at him.  He’s too fast and side steps my moves easily.  My fist connects with nothing but air.  I'm disheartened but nobody promised this would be a fair fight.
There's a tell tale glint in his eye.   ‘Tiredness’ knows he has this in the bag.  
Distracted, I don’t see it coming.  A punch to the stomach that knocks the air from my lungs and has me falling to my knees.  My hand on the mat steadies me as I fight to regain my breath.  
Rising shakily to my feet I swing wildly as ‘Tiredness’ closes in but I’m just too slow.  His fists pummel my stomach and then a strong upward jab connects fiercely with my jaw.
Blackness closes in as I begin to fall and my body emits a loud thud as it hits the mat.  I hear the count of ten . . . 1, 2, 3, 4 . . . . . 8, 9, 10.  Slipping further into darkness I envision the ref holding his hand up in the air and declaring ‘Tiredness’ the victor.

Linking with Texture Tuesday.


  1. What an interesting piece of writing - so vivid and descriptive. I have never thought of tiredness as something we fight against - but it's true, isn't it? We often fight against what our body is telling us it needs.

    1. Thanks Brenda . . . I suffer with insomnia and often find myself fighting 'Tiredness'. You're right that our body often tells us what it needs but we don't always listen.

  2. I love the way you wrote this, though sorry you have to fight the old beast. May sweet dreams find their way to you soon.

  3. Very vivid writing and your image is very interesting!