4
Downhill
I climbed out of the shower and toweled off. What a day. First Treadwell, then the wreck. I hoped there was no truth to the adage that bad luck comes in threes.
Cleaned up, I could finally do a good inspection. I had four or five small scratches on my face, plus a good gash on the forehead. My nose was puffy and red, my bottom lip was busted, and my right eye was beginning to hint at turning black. I flexed my right arm and leaned into the mirror to get a closer look at the myriad cuts on it.
I could see a tiny shard of glass in one of the gashes. I picked it out.
Standing up straight, I inspected the rest of my bruised torso. I’d always felt I was fairly well built, but I spent more time in the ring or with a punching bag than I did with the free weights, so my muscles wer
