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🥊 two. float like a butterfly, sting like a bee
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Growing up, Morana Romano was always told to enjoy and appreciate the life God gave her.
It was an old saying her stepmother used to tell her whenever she was complaining about the little things or being fussy about something else too. Often, Dolores would wag her manicured finger around, tutting Morana to be quiet, before launching into the infamous tale about her father immigrating from Lazio to America for a better life, yada yada. It was a cycle Morana grew tired of because her father wasn't always a saint. Sure, he immigrated and did all of that stuff, but she was tired of being belittled by her stepmother and having all these stories told her about her father even though she knew they weren't true. She knew how her father was, but her stepmother had a habit that made him seem like he was such a good guy for even immigrating from his old home country to another shitter country.
Was she grateful?
Eh.
Morana was grateful for learning English, she was grateful for learning how to box even though she could've done that in Italy, but she didn't really like America even though her parents did. She didn't understand the appeal like pants that sagged to show off your underwear or tight blouses that showed every single detail about your chest. She didn't like much things, but she didn't mind wearing tight blouses or loose shorts whenever she boxed. What she especially didn't like was rigged fights or losing fights when people betted so much money on her, but tonight?
Tonight was definitely going to be her best fight.
She could tell because she woke up feeling good, her body felt loose, and she ate her favorite avocado toast. She felt good earlier and she felt good now as she stayed in the changing room.
The heels of her feet bounced repeatedly on the ground, elbows tucked near her waist, and the worn out gloves felt heavy on her hands. Her eyes were narrowed, irises trailing after the burgundy punching bag, and her arm extended sharply before she reeled it back. Her eyes continued to narrow as her arms repeatedly extended then pulled back with each punch she pulled to the punching bag and her feet were beginning to peel off skin because of the pressure she put on them.
