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| October 2005 / Volume Six / Issue Five | ||||||||||
| Christopher Citro | ||||||||||
| I Can't Thank Her Enough When I think about man’s inhumanity to man, I'm back in fourth grade on my knees. A girl I had a crush on kicked me in the face because I wouldn't give her my seat on the swing. Just like in a movie, when I touched my lips and my fingers were bloody, I actually saw red. As if some beating heart, startled from a rock cleft, shot away leaving a cloud. I remember lunging, running for her. A circle of adults catching, holding me back. Just like in a movie, they said, "Are you calm now?" I said, "Yes, I'm calm now." Their grips relaxed. I took off after her again. She escaped into school. I ended up in the nurse's office, a fat lip and a headache from rage leaving me limp. Later, I shook her hand. A teacher between us saying, "She's sorry and she wants to know you forgive her." Which I did. Why not? She'd given me a view of myself as an animal. For that I could never really get her back. |
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