Atlas Gym, Tuesday Afternoon

[headkickpoet.livejournal.com]

So Ray could take some carols, no prob, but there was a point, and that point had been reached somewhere into his fifth cup of coffee. Once he found the time, he quickly fled from the music and to the gym.

Where it was still blaring Christmas tunes, but at least he could beat up on the punching bag to the rhythm of it. He could admit by now that maybe he was a little too old for proper boxing, but that didn't take the fun out of a good one-two-punch.

Besides, he'd been a great boxer in his time. Really.

[ open like a gym is! ]