Ying versus Yang?


 

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           The ominous night sky provides the perfect cover for two rivals. They glare  into each other’s eyes with murderous intent and grip the weapons in their hands.  The tip of the first warrior’s long blade glistens under the dim moon while the other holds a spear by his side. Two rival groups, fighting over control of their respective districts, summons their best assassins.  After slaughtering many foes, only two skilled warriors remain after the wars. The man wielding the sword removes his white suit jacket and black tie, throws it on the ground and unbuttons the first two collar buttons of his dress shirt. However, the man holding the spear, in a calculated way, discards his black jacket and white tie, folds and sits them on the hood of his black Impala. 

       In an empty parking lot, the fluorescent street lamps illuminate the concrete battleground as the warrior with the spear spreads his feet apart, bends at the knees and grips his pole-arm with both hands while the swordsman twirls his sword in his right hand and examines his opponent’s stance.

     The dead silence between the two only made the low humming noise of the streetlights and cars passing by even louder. They calm their breathing, clear their minds, and fixate on one another.

    The flickering street lights signal the beginning of the fight. The man with the spear releases a short battle cry as he sprints towards his nemesis! The swordsman braces for impact while his attacker spins his spear in the air and performs a diagonal slash at his chest. The swordsman rolls to the side and counters with swift spin slash. He slices his enemy’s black shirt open and exposes his side. The male, with the white shirt, follows through with a series of sword swings that forces his adversary back and uses his edge as a shield to block the assaults of his opponent. The swordsman thrusts kicks the spear-man into a nearby the lamp-post and aims for his foe’s neck. The spear-man ducks and the swordsman slices the concrete post in half! The pole tumbles to the ground and the outer glass containing the bulb light smashes into pieces. The man with the spear takes a few breaths before resuming his attack. By this time, his black shirt drips sweat and more run down his face. The swordsman, unfazed by recent events, holds his sword at his right side, smirks and begins walking towards him.

TO BE CONTINUED

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