The Boxer

Being a southpaw, Booker pulled back his left fist and let fly with a wild haymaker. Harry stepped back. Booker’s fist flew through the air, causing him to stagger forward. He missed his mark. As he tried to regain balance and pull his arm back to take another swing, Harry stepped forward and took two jabs – right hand – left hand – quick – right on the button - just like that.

Booker’s most vivid memory of the moment was being aware they were standing on the center line of the deserted street, and hearing a dog barking - then seeing one star – a bright flash in one eye – and another bright starry flash in the other eye; then realizing that he was sitting on the centerline of the street and the dog was still barking. He looked up to see Harry looking down at him.
“What the hell just happened?” Booker said.
“You just kissed the pavement,” Harry said. “I warned you!”