«What was that, Brian? Did you suddenly forget how to walk? We’re not dancing the waltz here. This is a fighting art. It demands perfection.»
His voice was laced with scorn. The young man’s face flushed.
«Sorry, Sensei, I lost my footing.»
«You lost your focus,» Todd corrected him sharply. «Focus is everything. The moment you lose it, you’re vulnerable. An opponent will exploit that. A real opponent doesn’t care about your excuses.»
He clapped his hands together, his voice echoing in the large room.
«Again, from the top. And this time, try to look like the black belt you claim to be.»
The students resumed their practice, their movements now more tense, more careful. Carol continued her mopping, her back to the class. She was almost finished with the perimeter.
As she pulled her mop back for another pass, the long wooden handle bumped a small metal water bottle someone had left on the floor. It tipped over with a loud clang, rolled a few feet, and came to a stop just on the edge of the white mat.
Every head in the dojo snapped in her direction. The students stopped moving. The sudden silence was deafening. Carol froze, her heart sinking.
«I am so sorry,» she whispered, her face growing hot with embarrassment. She quickly set her mop aside and hurried to pick up the bottle.
