There he was, again, flexing his middle-aged muscle to a team primarily consisting of young, amateur fighters. The handful of pros half-heartedly listened, but they, for the most part, tuned out his droning, senseless rambles and did their own thing.
Coach Tim didn’t have a clue what he was doing; everyone knew, but only Kelvin, the most experienced of the bunch, voiced the obvious.
“I think it’s time you go,” Kevin announced before Friday morning’s sparring session.
Echoes of agreement struck the gym’s walls, and the door hit Tim like a roundhouse kick on his way out.
Word Count: 99
Prompted from Carrot Ranch’s Flash Fiction Challenge at: https://carrotranch.com/2020/03/27/march-26-flash-fiction-challenge-2/.