Here's a little piece by my friend, Shane Michael Murphy.
Syzygy
“Jab,” said Bas Rutten. Shane jabbed, but Dillon had gone, faded away, reappeared just
outside the edge of pain. No surprise. Dillon was quick, efficient, good. The surprise was,
when Bas said “jab” again from the computer speaker, Dillon hit Shane in the eye. Dillon hadn’t
moved. His arms weren’t longer. All the facts of their physical relationship were the same, plus
one fist in the part of the system representing Shane’s face. Shane thought of his childhood.
He thought of Acting, then not. Thought of marriage, divorce, fate. Sagittarius cold-cocking
Cancer. Shane considered the stars.
“Jab,” said Bas.
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