Callow Shine
The skin on the back of my knuckles was peeled back, cracked and shiny with wet and drying blood. Some of it was mine. Some of it had belonged to the man on the floor, looking up at me from behind a broken nose and the fading spark of a fight in his eyes. I hadn’t wanted to hit him, but I told myself the same lie I always did, that I did it for her.
