I was ready. Imagining my own reflection as that of my futile and distressed opponent, I gave the air one final kick.
"Hiya". After dismounting from her bicycle, she kicked her plump little legs into the air and continued to assault her invisible opponent as she moved awkwardly down the pavement. Stopping almost as unpredictably as she had started, her face appeared to be glowing with arrogant satisfaction. Her intense blue eyes compellingly pierced my own and her petite red lips contrasted with her round, pallid face and formed a gruesome smirk, as if questioning my authority. Although her kicks had caused no physical harm this untrained minor had caused me an internal blow. Clearly oblivious to the fact that I was a trained Taekwondo student (although only a yellow belt), she had confronted my seniority and damaged my self-esteem. However, with supreme self-control I managed to smile and walk ahead, concealing my morose face and asking myself why her idiocy could not have been rewarded with a sidekick to the face.
Through the wooden doors, the musty smell of the disused Church wafted through the air. The windows were washed in a coloured sequence of stained glass that created a spectrum of continuous colours, which fell onto the dusty auburn floors, generating a warm and calming glow. As if in defiance of the ambiance of peace and serenity, the black belts, in their refined supremacy, practised their dazzling selection of flying kicks, landing promptly on their feet with a classy thump as they hit the floor. .
After bowing to the masters, the entire room filled with a deep resounding echo, as we all shot out a bellowing "Kiup", the word synonymous to Karate's "Hiya". A chill ran down my spine, as I now knew the true extent of masculinity in the room. Although I had not noticed it before, I realised that there were only four girls in our academy, including me. After completing the obligatory and well-rehearsed exercises that preceded a competition, I braced myself.
