Weave (Flash Fiction)

“Bob and weave, just bob and weave.” Gramps called out from the
porch recliner. “You’ve got to keep your head down, kid.” He advised.

“I am, already.” James grumbled. “This is too hard!”

“Everything’s hard when you start.” The older man chuckled. “It just takes practice, a lot of practice.”

“Too much practice!” James threw himself down on the grass and rolled
over to lie on his back, staring up at the sky. “Ugh. I hate
practicing!”

“The results are always worth it.”

“Really?”

“Always.”

(c) Sara Harricharan