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Thrusting myself into my work

I showed up at the kickboxing gym too early, but I was in luck, there was a knife fighting class, and I decided to take it while I was waiting.  Knife fighting is much more technical than boxing, lectured the instructor.  You must be very conscientious about your stance and your form.  Swing your arm so that you are throwing the slicing edge at your opponent, and remember to carefully side step them simultaneously.  Practice footwork, forward, back, side.  Flashbacks to my Salsa for fitness class.  Slash to the face, slash to the chest, slash to the groin, step, step, step and THRUST.  Delightfully, I repeat the movement with gusto, imagining my pretend opponent disemboweled and helpless in front of me.  A strange feeling of satisfaction overtakes me as I rehearse, again and again, step, step, step and THRUST!  I finally realize the origin of the obscene gesture with the same movement, and it tickles me.  I throw my arm out slowly and deliberately as I step, a novice carefully considering her form, meditating... meditating upon the inherent violence turned Tango.  I release a long, slow sigh of relief, and I smile.

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