A3Writer: F3 Wind Boxing
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Friday, June 26, 2015

F3 Wind Boxing

            Natalie didn’t fight fair as she hit me with a hard jab to the gut, following it up with a right cross, then finishing me off with a haymaker. All from twenty feet away.
            I landed flat on my back staring up at the blue sky. The cloud was comfy, but that wasn’t why I didn’t get up. I was embarrassed. Not because I had been beaten by a girl—April Sanders had disabused me of that idea back in fifth grade. I was embarrassed because I still didn’t know anything about being a Storm Rider. Every other week there was yet another trick I didn’t know about. Some new thing I had to try and learn and master.
            I had a knack for lightning, but Natalie blew me away—literally—when it came to the wind.
            Natalie’s smug face loomed above me, now. “That’s a TKO, Reilly. You’re buying dinner tonight. Just so you know, I’m craving something French and upscale. I know a couple of great places in Winnipeg.
            “Canada,” I groaned. “You sure you wouldn’t something French Cajun or French Creole.”
            “No. French and upscale. I desire the best tonight.”
            I groaned again. Being a Storm Rider brought a lot of perks, such as being able to ride lightning from Des Moines to Winnipeg in under five minutes, but a stable income wasn’t one of them. I was already pinching my pennies this month.
            I need to start trading stocks on the side like Wally.

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