You’re a coward. Don’t worry. Most are. I raise my hands and you’ll crap your pants.
I’m not judging. Sure, I’ll fight the man. Eat every bit of sweat-covered leather his muted jackhammer jab can offer. Journeymen do that. Taste the hook they haven’t the skill to see coming.
That’s life. Things happen, mostly bad and you adjust. The trouble is, even when you roll with the punches, you’re still getting hit. Sometimes brave is just stupid on steroids.
Looking for more fast fiction? Check out Two Minutes Too Late