Fist-fight in the downpour. Mostly feints, rain gets in the eyes.
Who challenged whom? Was it the sort of thing that happened because of a sleight, or was it something that had been building for a while, finally erupting into dumb violence?
We are the passers-by, pretending not to notice, we have no context.
Surprised, really, by the lack of words. Have words failed? No yelling, no posturing, just two somewhat young men with fists up, determined, as rain falls.
You lean closer to say something, but I can't take my eyes away. They were in the street but now they're on the grass, the mud is making them clumsy, they're more likely to slip & fall than fell one another with punches.
Do they notice we've slowed to watch? Is this why they stop? Or has sense prevailed?
One walks away. Spits on the ground as he does. Mutters something I think is "Fuck you."
The other turns, he seems more embarrassed than relieved. He doesn't appear to know where he is. He just starts walking, turns around, walks in a diagonal across the street.
One of our dogs barks at him. He doesn't seem to notice.
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