Maybe you’ve been in a fight. Or maybe you’ve watched from a safe distance, a fight unfolding. I mean an abrupt fight, out in the world, not a match staged with tickets and accompanying odds. In the first stages, it’s that pantomiming of “will they, won’t they.” Like a jouncing, spritely dance. Better yet, like birds doing a jouncing dance. There’s an intrinsic hesitation no matter how intentioned the participants appear, even if that hesitation is borne out of a blood-alcohol level that shifts limbs to slow motion.
Nobody really wants to fight. Even the people we claim are spoiling for one, like if they aren’t soon granted the
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