Yesterday ...

... at eight o'clock I got a last kiss from my woman and dressed apprehensively, unsure of what the day might bring. Unsure, besides the knowledge that there would be wresting with irons, the possibility of death and mutilation and certain bloodloss. I stepped out and faced the enemy, clad in iron and coloured in a garish blue and red and silver paint, a war paint of a kind, intend to frighten and to make onlookers take heed of the might of the opposing force.

I began my battle, facing my enemy and my own fears and inch by hardwon inch I demolished, slayed and decimated the fearful, skeletal host, leaving me victorious and deathly tired and strangely mostly unscathed.

And after I took down this scaffolding we used to paint the house I went to the dentist and my blood was spilled.

What did you think I was talking about?

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