The friction-burn sears into tightened fingers. Release! The body unerringly knows where to find grip and then - push! I lean forward, fingers splayed anticipating the next move, muscles tense and bunched, the power within ready to be released.
‘Hey, Jack! You like that? Impressive high-bar work, huh?’
I relax and allow the tension to flow away from my body. At least from the part that I can still feel.
‘Sure, Tom, I like that’.
‘Listen Jack, he’s good but you were better, ya know?’
Yeah, I silently agree. But for the accident, I could have gotten gold.
‘Push me home, Tom.’
(Flash story in 100 words inspired by the above photo)