Violet went to the cinema alone. The old Kung Fu movie was playing again. Memories came flooding back when Dad had first brought her to watch it when she was about twelve. She emerged chattering about flying through the air and super fast moves. And so began her love affair with Chinese martial arts.
Her mother, although disappointed, switched her ballet classes with a stern warning that she dare not see one broken vase in the house.
Dad was there at every tournament and soon Mum was alongside, cheering her on as she mastered her moves and readily took down her opponents.
As the cinema attendant wheeled her towards the entrance, there was a ruckus inside and a man could be seen mowing people down as he rushed towards them. Her hands grabbed her walking stick and struck a stinging blow to his kneecaps, as he gasped and tumbled into the gaping attendant who was still at sea.
Between voices of concern and alarm, with cinema personnel gathering around her wheelchair and security guards taking the groaning intruder away, Violet looked down at her frail hands and smiled. Yup, she still had it; albeit with a little help from her trusty old cane.