The Fight

He stood before me, looking confident that he’d win. I turned my left side to him, as he turned his right. I threw a punch with my right, he with his left.
So began our dance.
He hit me in the the left side of my face as I hit his right cheek. He kicked my left kidney, as my kick collided with his right kidney. We traded blows for what felt like hours. Each matching each other’s blows. As we stepped back bruised and bloodied, we collapsed.
As I came to, in my bathroom, blood and broken glass covered the floor. I looked at my reflection, in the shattered mirror. With a sigh and a crunch of glass under my heel, I left the room, to cry myself to sleep.


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