He backed his car up on my lawn – a boat of a thing. Hit my retaining wall. All this as I watched from across the street. It was dusk if I recall.
I’d had enough. I called out to him and said that I was going to make him pay. He crossed the street and I laid into him. He seemed to recover for a second and he hit me in the face hard but it did nothing more than jostle me. I kicked his legs out from under him and he collapsed to the ground. I pounced.
He turned away on his side to cover up as I rained punches and elbows over his head. Then I proceeded to throw knee after knee into his kidneys. He would be sure to piss blood now.
After the finishing blows, he hobbled away muttering to me that he would never encroach on my property again.
I’ve had a lot of fights in my dreams, but I usually have a habit of losing. I move awkwardly and can’t seem to control the pace. I haven’t had a fight dream in some time so it was nice to know that I’ve gained ground within my subconscious – where it really counts.
One thing that still bothers me though, is how that skin on my forehead got torn out…that’s some Freddy Kruger type shit…