Fighting Words

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Ah, yes! A little fisticuffs! A private boxing encounter right here in the lobby. We’ve got to brawling out here behind the building. Rolled up our sleeves and commenced to clamor. Begun a brouhaha, a fracas, a quarrel — ruckus. We’re kicking up dust out in the street, near where the tram runs through. Next to the horse track, the old stables. Here, where the busses hiss to a stop, their doors creaking open to let travelers step down to hot pavements. Here we fight with hands and feet, you and me — in a spasm sparring, a set-to of singular strife. A duel for the ages! Ah, yes! A scuffle between us has started.

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