"Right in his Belly!"

Friday, October 30, 2015

Can't Take It in the Belly

He gave me a classic four-punch bellyache. Sealed with a kick.

First a chop in the pit. No warning, just let fly a sidearm punch, and his hand's edge jutted into my bare belly. He chopped me high on my stomach. Totally winded me and froze me to the spot.

Bug-eyed and stunned, I watched in silent horror as his other fist served me up a belly-busting uppercut punch.

It was a real stomach-masher, a slug to drive the OOF! out of my gut and double me far over.

He pulled me upright again, rared back, and POW! - he let me have it. Right in the belly with his full-force fist. Drove me right back to the wall, and he caught me there as I arched myself away from the impact. Caught me good and hard with a bellyslammer. Pinned my belly-button to my spine and sent my breath on a long vacation. I was on my way to my knees before his fist left my gut.

My suffering and weakness drove me down to the ground, and I writhed there and grovelled on my belly.

I tried to rise and he caught me stretched out on my side, sucking for air, and gave me a contemptuous kick with his boot to my belly.

I scrolled in the sand helplessly, mouthing a winded, silent "O!"