In one move, I jump off the bed, grab Danilo by the throat and hurl him onto the floor of the adjoining bathroom. With all my strength, I strangle him until his face turns blue. I have every intention of killing him, but at the critical moment I release my grip. I come to my senses and realize that murdering Danilo is not worth spending twenty years in prison.
I have absorbed the violence I’ve witnessed in war. It is lurking just beneath the surface.
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