A Solid Connection

My right arm was frozen mid-strike. Then, weight returned to my frame. I shifted my back foot into the canvas, finding firm balance under the spotlights. Across from me, another gloved fist hung suspended in mid-air. I did not rush. I lined up my posture, timed my breath, and pressed my black glove straight against the silver fist. The impact made a quiet, dry tap. Loose specks of grey dust drifted off the contact point and settled onto the ring mat. I am here. Ready.