She looked harmless enough. 3 ft 6, peradventure 3 ft 8.
Probably 70 pounds. I guessed she may perhaps have been 4, maybe
5 age old.
How can you be panicked of a adolescent that small? Looks can
be deceiving, can't they?
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I'm a grown man. A fat man. I worked too ticklish in the
nineties ascent the firm ladder, and I let my
waistline get distant from me. Now I was paying the fee for
too masses coffee cakes, 2 cocktail lunches and Must-See-TV.
I gasped and wheezed my way off the couch to a downtown
empty building turn mercenary manufactory.
I'm repute in a glacial arctic dojo, dressed in white
pajamas that they call a "gi", beside a light-colored belt wrapped
around my waistline. A tuft of midgets all below the age of
8 are erect nearby me.
A scruffy looking juvenile stand at the front part of us. We
call him "Master". He barks advice at us, and we exhale.
And boot. And smack. And bow. I hate him. He is gaunt.
I am not. I am dyspneal for air.
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I am in my initial martial art lesson. They cragfast me in a kids
class. I don't weighing its mirthful. The sad section is I am the
worst one of the thicket. This small 5 year old young lady keeps
wanting to spar me. This elflike martial art girls feet and
hands are the size of a 3 Musketeers potable bar. And
yet I am convinced she could blow my ass.
Why oh why didn't I fix your eyes on after myself once I had the chance?
I loathe doing metacarpophalangeal joint pushups!
Note to self: everything from now on in grade. No more
crazy eating, no more rental myself go. I optimism I can be
a superior sampling to these children of what not to do!