Blood explodes all over his nose and mouth as he splutters on the ground. And then he lifts him up by his T-shirt and punches him again. And again. Then kicks him. When the others try to interfere, he drives his fists in their faces in a long succession of punches. He’s in a frenzy. A craze. He is crazy. And yet as I stand here, the only feeling that goes through me is resounding relief. He didn’t leave. He came back.
