It’s late afternoon when I wake. I dress and walk to the Horseshoe but don’t quite get there. Up ahead, I see a commotion, people having stopped to watch something in the street. Mothers are pulling their children away. Moving close, I see it’s a fight and it’s not just any two men. It’s Jack and Roe.
Never have I seen two men go at it like these two. Both already bloodied, Roe looks ready to kill, face screwed up in a vicious scowl, while Jack, blood streaming from his nose, bears a cold determination, which in a way is worse than Roe. Jack’s the one who could kill.
Fists fly, and when Jack knocks Roe to the ground, he drops onto him and keeps punching. There’s no sound but their grunts and the sound of fists striking flesh and bone. An awful sound. I fear for Jack, though Roe is clearl
