he was desperately forcing his head backwards, struggling to counter the force i was exerting on his head with my arm. he was doing surprisingly well for his small stature.
whether it was due to this stalemate or some brooding sense of empathy for his plight--for i was acting not out of vengeance or retribution, but for reasons utterly arbitrary--i realized that i didn't want to actually put his face in a mound of dog shit.
so without warning, i let go.
within half a second, before the crunch and blood and blackness, i realized what chain of events i had set off. he was still pushing his head backwards, away from the dog shit as if his life depended on it.
the back of his stiff-necked head had collided with my nose, breaking it.
the irony of this was not lost on my younger brother, who was now laughing harder than i was moments before when it was his nose that was in peril.
through the blood and watery eyes, i understood god more that day than any other.
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