"You would be more likely to hurt yourself than to hurt me," She said with a little more seriousness. "No, you're going to do some standing punches ag...inst something a little more predicatable, okay?"So I got to punch things. Specifically, I got to punch a curious construction made of a series of truck axles mounted on swivels, each on top of a heavy pole. The pole heights varied so that some punches were chest high, some head high, and some low, in what would have been the bread basket if I'd. “Mother.” she genuflected in obedience. Mother Superior cleaned the nib of the quill she had been using and carefully laid it down upon her desk. Sister Magdalene had no idea of Mother Superior’s age, only that she had been Mother Superior since she could remember. It was legend that she had never left the convent in all her life and that to do so, would be the death of her.Fanciful, but somehow believable. It always fascinated Magdalene that in this day and age, someone would still use a quill. More

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