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Durango Fights

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The day is almost over, but the heat of the sun’s heat radiates from the Durango, Colorado sidewalks. A large crowd has gathered for the 4th of July parade but they don’t seem to mind the heat. As they walk around peering into shops and stores. The country band that’s playing seems to draw a large crowd with their song about some man’s trip into a Mexican bar.

My cousin, Josh, and I are still walking around aimlessly, trying to keep ourselves entertained. The bruise on my leg from all the punches we’ve exchanged playing slugbug throbs in time with the heavy pounding coming from my head phones.
We stop in front of a store called “Inferno”. Turning to me Josh asks if I want to check it out. I agree. As we walk inside the plasticy smell of the skateboards, snowboards, and new clothes greets me as well as the pleasant rush of the air conditioning. As we walk in the cashier looks up from his magazine and utters something like a greeting. I start walking around and looking at all the merchandise. In a glass case a pair of sunglasses catches my eyes. As I walk closer the price tag shows that I will probably never be able to buy them.
Just as we are starting for the door three kids walk in and stop when they saw me and Josh. As we walked past them they gave us a glare that showed their anger towards us. We shouldered past them and walked into the mid-day heat. When we were half a block away, I asked Josh why those kids gave us the death glare. He told me that they went to his school and hated him for odd reason. He wouldn’t explain in any more detail. So I dismiss it with a shrug of my shoulders and keep walking.
As we are walking around we stop to check out some guy’s sleek, sexy GTO. We turned to the owner and asked if he would open the hood for us. He agreed. When he popped the hood a gleaming ray of light streamed through the gaps of the hood and body. The engine, a 400, was pristine. The chrome air filter, valve covers, and headers shined with a brilliance that would out shine the stars. Standing there staring at its beauty, some kid behind us turned to his dad and said, “This is one fine looking Mustang.” At this I turned around and said “You are as dumb as a bag of rocks if you think this is a Mustang.” After this comment the boy’s dad said something but I didn’t hear him. The boy’s stupidity was infuriating. Josh, knowing that this was something that might escalate, grabbed my shoulders and dragged me down the sidewalk.
After about another hour of aimlessly wondering, we decided to go back to his house. After walking around all day we decided to take a few shortcuts so we didn’t have to walk the extra mile. Cutting through a parking lot of some restaurant and climbed the wall blocking it from another.
When our feet hit the ground we heard someone say, “Well look who it is.” We jumped around and saw the kid from the board shop with four or five other people. That’s when all hell broke loose. The kid in front of my cousin threw the first punch. By the time Josh hit the ground I was already swinging at his face. When my fist made contact, I was already running at the next kid. Before he knew what was going on, I grabbed his head and pulled down as I brought my knee up. When I looked around for the next kid the other three had already taken off.
When I got to my cousin he was already getting up. His eye was already swelling shut. I helped him up and we started back to his house.





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