Welcome to the daily Three Things Challenge.
Use your imagination and creativity using one, two or all three words that may or may not be related. There are no restrictions regarding length, style, or genre, though please keep it family friendly.
Tag your responses with 3TC, #threethingschallenge or TTC, and you can add Di’s logo if you wish.
Your three words today are:
FIGHT
FIST
FRY
Anton was a lover, not a fighter. He’d avoid an altercation if he could, but sometimes people insisted on a fight. Thus, he felt obligated to provide them with the ass-kicking of their lives.
One day, a woman approached Anton on the street.
“You Anton?” She was gently punching her left palm with her right fist.
“Yeah?” He looked at the pale, slightly built woman with a scarf covering her head. “And you are?”
“Sylvia. I hear you like to fight.” She continued punching her palm.
“You heard wrong.”
“What are ya? Scared? C’mon, let’s go a few rounds in the alley.”
“Is this some kind of a joke? I don’t fight women! You gotta be nuts.” He began to walk away.
“Wait! Please.” Sylvia begged. “You don’t understand….”
“Apparently not,” Anton replied.
“I don’t wanna fight you,” Sylvia explained. “It’s just that I need it to be over fast.” Her eyes welled up.
“Need what to be over fast?” Anton stared at her, perplexed.
“Okay. See, I’ve got cancer. Chemo is frying my insides and it’s not working anyway.”
“Oh, my God.” Suddenly Anton understood. “And you want me to —”
“I can’t do this anymore! I can’t take it! Sylvia interrupted, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, God, I’m so scared!” She collapsed in his arms.
Anton held her awkwardly, trying to think of something helpful to say. He didn’t want to tell her it was going to be okay, because it probably wasn’t. He knew words like, ‘stay strong,’ and ‘you got this,’ were meaningless from when his sister (of blessed memory) had cancer. “Would you like to sit down. Let’s go sit on that bench over there.”
Sylvia followed him, grateful someone else was in charge if only for a while.
Anton kept his arm around her awkwardly while she continued to sob.
“Are you hungry?” He dug a couple of clean tissues out of his pocket and handed them to her.
“Thanks.” Sylvia shook her head and blew her nose. “Can’t eat.”
Just then, two people, a man and a woman slowly walked toward them.
Geeziz, I hope these people are here to help …
“Sylvia?” the woman said gently. “We’ve been looking all over for you.’
Sylvia looked at them blankly.
“You ready to go back?” The man asked. “You don’t want to miss your treatment this afternoon. It’s red devil, you know. It should wipe out the cancer.”
Sylvia shrugged and looked at the ground. “Thanks, Anton. I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”
“No worries,” Anton replied. “What hospital you at?”
“Beth Israel.” Sylvia stood up, prepared to leave with the two people.
“I’ll visit you tomorrow, if it’s okay, I mean.”
“You mean it? That would be good.” She smiled at him. “Real good.”
“It’s a date!”
He stood up and watched as Sylvia walked away and thought about tomorrow. He hoped there’d be one for Sylvia.
Anton went back to his apartment and spent the rest of the day watching Andy Griffith and Leave it to Beaver reruns.
Ergo, the Ogre 
Tell it like it is