August, 1981, Tampa

“There’s going to be a time..”
The meaty sound of a fist striking flesh.
“…when you’ll thank me for this..”
And again.
“…and on that day…”
Thud-Thud. Two strikes in quick succession, and the rattle of chains.
“…you’re gonna look back on this one…”
The sound of ragged gasps, broken things, almost pants really - like a terrified animal that’s been beaten so often a kick is a hug.