Four lines of prose about: the fight.
Because I'm listening to a Foo Fighters song as I write this.
Today we got back to work on the fence around the garden after focusing on other things for the last little while. I don't know if we'll get it finished tomorrow, but hopefully it'll be done by the end of the weekend.
It wasn't much of a fight, really; just one punch and then it was over. A few lost teeth, nothing particularly memorable. Well, for me at least - I just threw the punch.
I imagine the guy who took it in the kisser might disagree with my assessment.