Drider_it

My current job is construction.. concrete construction. My job is to make my boss happy. Make sure all the measurements are right. Every thing is squared, and tight. When they dump 50 yds. of concrete it goes smooth.

It was over, finally the job was done. I was walking around the slab, checking for cracks the next day. (Not that it mattered, cuz its post tention cables. They come back in a week and pull each cable inside the slab with 33k psi. You can't pull out a cig paper once its pulled.) Hands in my pockets I was being an ass, telling my crew that you had to be aware of your surroundings on any construction job. (our weekely safety meeting) I was using my elbows to point out potential dangers they left lying around. All this I was doing, as I was inspecting the slab.

The day was humid, as any day in Louisiana. Damn bugs being ever annoying. The wind was up, due to a hurricane Ike on its way at the time. We were to pack up and head out for the weekend and hopfully safety. A sudden movement caught my eye. One of our new hands was pulling mightly on a crowbar.

"Jame, turn around and work the bar the..." that was as far as I got. The air was rent with a sharp crack, as the 2x8 form snapped off a section and the pry bar flew from his hands. It landed on the slab, flipping twice and began a twirl towards us. Everyone ran in all directions. I stood my ground, watching intently as it whirled towards us. I wasn't gonna move till I knew just where it was going. Unfortunatly, it wanted a date with my shins. I jumped over it, with my hands still in my pockets. A smug look on my face. I beat the odds again.

Slow whistles and nervous laughter followed the event. As I started over to James, wondering what the hell he was doing, and to make sure he was ok; I felt a slight pressure on my left ankle. Resistance met my forward movement as I tried to extend my left leg. Seems I didn't beat the odds. My shoe lace caught the hooked end of the pry bar, and it had began a rotaton to my left foot. As I lifted my leg, heh I missed the first rotation. (thus saving me from a broken ankle) Alas, the second spin, thought the force spent, was enough to snare my movement. As, I began my decent downwards, my mind soared outward in disbelief.

I turned my body so I could break my fall and not my skull, the whole time my hands seemed to have lost the ability to find the pocket exits. For the briefest moment, I had the vision that it wasn't me falling, that the world sprang up to crash into me. On the way down, I looked out at the woods around us. Every one swears later I said one word:

"Surreal"

I guess I didn't beat the odds that day after all. Since then, I made it a point to keep focus and keep my damn hands outta my pockets.

On a side note... I took 4 sec. for me to roll to my back pull my feet under me, bend my body and stand up. All with my hands still in my pockets.

I was sore for a week cuz of that fall.

I got back to my truck, sat down and laughed for about 10 min. I was so mad at myself I had tears of fustration pouring down my face. Took me about 20 min. to calm down so I could get back to my work.

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It means only one thing, and everything: Cut. Once committed to fight, Cut. Everything else is secondary. Cut. That is your duty, your purpose, your hunger. There is no rule more important, no commitment that overrides that one. Cut. The lines are a portrayal of the dance. Cut from the void, not from bewilderment. Cut the enemy as quickly and directly as possible. Cut with certainty. Cut decisively, resoultely. Cut into his strength. Flow through the gaps in his guard. Cut him. Cut him down utterly. Don't allow him a breath. Crush him. Cut him without mercy to the depth of his spirit. It is the balance to life: death. It is the dance with death. It is the law a war wizard lives by, or he dies.