Practice

 
All I could smell was leather. All I could see was what I could have prevented but didn't. All I felt was the slickness trickling from my bottom lip. What took a moment to feel needed only a second to register. My team heard the pain before I felt it.
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Some more Quick Links, because I like to keep you busy:

A piece by Pete Richter up on his blog, Atlantic Refreshment, that I think is quite brilliant.

xTx brings us the latest installment of Zombie Summer, a great poem by Mike Boyle.

Andrew Kaspereen proves that our obsession with Journey ruins great moments.
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Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
The Roots (feat. Mos Def and Styles P), Rising Down