Heavy boots kicking up dirt on the streets, the house crashing down behind him. How the hell did this happen?
Past the peep shows, the hustlers and pushers; the darkening rustling in the alleys. Past the garbage, the stench, the needles. Crumpled numbers scurried across his boots.
Suddenly, he was in front of the gym. Did he still have his key? 3:00 am. The brick-lined room was quiet. He flicked on the brash lights, humming overhead. He dropped his belt and survival gear, the thud reverberating through the room.
He laced up his gloves, faded and battle-scarred. He kicked away the mat for the cold concrete floor.
The heavy bag swung back and he hit, head-on. Again.
Again. Pain flashed through his fists and up his arms. Again. His pulse thumped; his temple throbbed.
The chains rattled overhead. His fists a blur in the smoky mirror, his hair plastered to his skin, sweat running down his spine. His breath ragged, his knuckles hot; he caught the scent of blood.
A satisfied smile danced in the shadows of his face: Bitch.
Suddenly, he dropped his fists. Hanging his head, his rushing blood slowed as he caught his breath.
Is the sky really fallin’
Or does it just seem that way
Where’s my reasons for livin’
Have they all slipped away
Burning…. No! He squeezed his eyes shut until the rushing blood thundered through his body, crashing over his thoughts.
[Lyrics in italics, from “Comin’ Right Down On Top Of Me” by April Wine. Written by Myles Goodwin. Original release: First Glance, 1978.]
Myles Goodwin (lead and backing vocals, guitar, keyboards); Brian Greenway (lead and backing vocals, guitar, slide guitar, harmonica); Steve Lang (bass, backing vocals); Jerry Mercer (drums, percussion); Gary Moffet (guitar, slide guitar).