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Big City, Short Temper

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When Angels Stoop

Prologue

“What happens to a dream deferred?”

Montage of a Dream Deferred, “Harlem”
Langston Hughes
1902-1967


>thmp!<

>paf!<

Each blow sent the heavy bag swinging and her thoughts flew away with it.  Don Giuseppe- Papa Joe, as he insisted everyone call him- had taken her and her brother in, given them a new home.  He didn’t ask for much, either- he made sure she had Yayo’s medicine, made sure she could see a doctor, and paid all the bills.  He’d considered trying her out for one of the fighting rings, but she’d proved a bit too much of a loose cannon for that- too angry, too emotional, no control.  She either overcommitted and got pounded, or she crushed her opponent.  Nobody wanted to see fights like that.

>biff!<

>thud!<

The bag was swinging harder now and her punches, while still solid, were landing with less accuracy.  Her footing was getting a little sloppy as the weight of the bag drove back into her with every impact.  Papa Joe had, regretfully, decided against using her in the ring- not good enough for fighting, not pretty enough to be a ring girl.  He’d had her go out and make a few pickups for him- street-corner stuff, ferrying sealed envelopes from one place to another- but he’d decided he didn’t like the risk involved when a nosy cop nearly followed her home.  She wasn’t careful enough or experienced enough to spot a tail, and it wouldn’t take much to get the AFPD vice squad curious.

She caught the bag and started again.

>thmp!<

>paf!<

She felt the knuckle over her middle finger split, tasted the sudden, sharp pain as it seared her skin, but she didn’t stop.  This wasn’t the first time she’d torn open her flesh this way and the throbbing sting was a catharsis, burning away her doubts, insecurities, and anger.  She’d been doing little jobs- escorting some of Papa Joe’s lesser lieutenants or minor functionaries, chauffeuring some of his guests around the town.  It was busywork, mindless, far below her native intelligence and capability, like picking up his dry-cleaning, but it meant that he had an excuse to keep her on his payroll until he found something she was suited for.

>chd!<

>bmp!<

Her fist was bleeding freely, now, the blood running into the scarlet material covering her arm.  The door at the top of the stairs opened, but she ignored it, ramming her fists against the bag again and again until it swung wildly on the hook, chains jingling from each impact.  As the sweat ran into her eyes, her mind cleared.  She pivoted with the capering oscillations of the bag, planting her foot and slamming her fists home over and over again, each blow joining and magnifying the ones before.

>chnk!<

>skash!<

With a final, savage blow, the bag burst, the heavy chains holding it to the ceiling snapped, and damp sand sprayed across the floor.

Cyn blinked and stood, panting, staring at the devastation of her final strike.

Papa Joe walked warily around the shattered bag, pursing his lips thoughtfully.  “Very good, Lucinda,” he said finally, “I think you are ready.  I have a little job for you…”

*****

Next Chapter: When Angels Stoop, Part 1 by WhisakedJak

I got this picture from Debido-San a few months ago.  Brilliant, is it not?  Incidentally, if you like the work, drop by :iconun-debido:'s page and let him know!

Breakpoint is working out in :iconangel-fallsda:.
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Comments14
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LoneStranger's avatar
:star::star::star::star::star-half: Overall
:star::star::star::star::star: Vision
:star::star::star::star::star-empty: Originality
:star::star::star::star::star-half: Technique
:star::star::star::star::star: Impact

There's some good, some bad, and a question about this piece...although the questions are more in general.

The bad: Someone exercising to clear their mind has been done many many times, while it can be effective it does feel a bit cliche.

The good: Using this story to bring us up to speed on the character works out well. Having the character working through her history during the story is very well done, really gives the story the context we need.

Now for the question I have:
How long is this story? It looks like you posted the writing in the artists comments, there's nothing wrong with that but it looks kinda short.