tale 63 the terrible opponent Written by Rainer: rainer.lehrer@yahoo.com Learn languages (via Skype): Rainer: + 36 20 549 52 97 or + 36 20 334 79 74

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The terrible opponent He quickly went around the corner. Security! Or, wasn’t it? He still heard the footsteps that had followed him. Not only in the last few minutes. For weeks and months. He had trained for years and prepared for such a case. However, that only increased his feeling. He concentrated on his ears, everything was quiet, he went on. He heard the footsteps again. Man's steps. He would face him now, forcing him to say what all this was about, in the end fight. He hid behind a ledge and waited. The seconds seemed like minutes, hours. Now he jumped out, the enemy was in front of him. They both seemed ready to fight. The other took a quick step forward to the left, but our hero responded at the same moment. As in a chess match, the better position brings decisive advantages. The weight exactly above the body's centre of gravity in the case of straight strikes, in close combat preferably on the first foot. His opponent was taller than he was, had longer arms, so he had to try to get closer to him. Both reacted to the slightest twitch of the upper body, the shoulders. The eyes were fixed, the face expressionless, only absolute concentration. Who would attack when and how? Every muscle strained, turning around and running away was no longer possible for any of them. He knew if the other hit, he could get to him with a quick duck. If it was only a bluff, and if he bent, the other person would have the opportunity to make a decisive kick with his foot. And then, it was lightning fast, the other was apparently a beginner, with no preparatory work with the left forehand, his right shoulder shrugged, that should have been a huge blow. He leaned forward slightly, towards the blow, tilted his head ten centimetres to the left, lifted his left foot briefly, only five centimetres, and came almost forty centimetres closer to the other. That was enough to first place a left-hand hook in the bottom rib, whereupon the other lowered his arms a little in pain and his face was completely open. At the left hook, of course, this shoulder had moved a bit forward and the other back, so that he was at a sixty degree angle to the opponent. Like a hammer, his right fist flew toward the other's exposed face. Everything happened so quickly that his own eyes were unable to follow what was happening. He had been faster than his own shadow. Like training! Every single movement was in him, he didn't even have to think about it. Clink! The mirror opposite him shattered into a thousand pieces. A feeling of happiness filled him. He had defeated himself! Continue with tale 64!

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