Rage letters

A beat up.
All he can feel is pain all around.
Until he grabs an ankle.
Doesn't matter whom's.
He twists it, until he hears a click.
A body falling, screaming in pain.
The precious seconds he needs to stand up.
Breathing hurts, surely broken ribs.
Suddenly, he feels two arms grabbing him.
One around the chest, and the other around the neck, choking him.
He bites the arm that is trying to choke him.
Bites it hard.
Until it bleeds.
And when the blood reaches his tong, all goes crazy.
All goes black, white and red.
He is unable to think.
Just punch and kick and slap and bite.
No rules.
No first, second or third thoughts.
Like an animal.
Only the lust for violence.
Only rage.
No stopping until only one is standing.
Either he or another one, doesn´t matter.
He is fine with that.
And with a wild grin, he jumps to battle.

Carnival

Once a year, there's a week when people dress up with any kind of costume anybody can imagine: a Lego brick, a banana, some fiction character, a footballer, a musician, a celebrity... whatever any person can think of.

The interesting stuff lies in the chosen costume. Why did you dress up like that? Something you aspire to be, something you didn't or couldn't become, showing off or just being proud of being part of a group, proving that you are a better educated individual than anybody else, trying to be anything else than yourself, showing everybody how attractive you are, laziness, lack of ideas or money, etc. And more to guess.

Sometimes, those costumes give the courage to do something that you would never think of, or say what you have never dared to. Sometimes goes fine. Sometimes it doesn't.

And however, the best of my memories is that for two nights, I was the Clown Prince of Crime, creeping everybody all over the place.