The Owl Fight

It's been a long time since my tongue made contact with the Doyle Owl's golden exterior. I don't think about it very often, except for when I look down at the scar on my knee. It's a strange memory, because for all of the screaming and laughs and tears and wins and almost-wins of the night, none of my memories are of feelings. They are all visual. I don't really see myself as any specific type of visual or kinesthetic learner, but my memories tend to center on how I felt. Images happen too, but usually in conjunction with a strong feeling.

This is what I saw that night, in approximately chronological order:
-Liana's hair poofing out from beneath her skaterboy helmet as we biked to the front lawn in the early darkness.
-Running out in front of Eliot after fireworks erupted in that general direction.
-G's face as he gave us lipstick war paint, and told us a fake Doyle owl was in front of Bragdon.
-Rosie's face after she had been half-trampled in the fight, us (don't even remember who the person beside me was) asking if she was alright. I didn't even know her name back then.
-The one drug dealer's face (I don't know his name, all I know is that when I asked him if he was tasty he said no. A different story) as he straddled the owl, full of achievement.
-Michael running into the fray, naked except for his shoes.
-Hugh's face as he contemplated the Tir Na Nog charge.
-Our perfectly spear shaped formation as we attacked.
-Torben's stomach, caving in around a rope that he had tied to the owl, and around his waist. Someone cut it. It's good that his internal organs avoided more bruising, but I kind of hate the person who brought a knife into the owl fight. I guess that's a feeling.
- Ari's face, as he struggled to sit on the owl for as long as possible.
-Lisa's face, when she warned me that if the owl did actually make it into my car, people might slash my tires. The glory would have been well worth it.
-Mark on his bike with a shopping cart attached to the back, ready to ride off with the owl. That would never have worked.
-Flying over the owl, propelled by some upward force unknown to physics, and landing on the asphalt of the parking lot.
-Seeing blood drip from my knee. This has some feeling, because I didn't feel accomplished after touching, then kissing, and finally licking the owl. Once I bled for the owl, I felt like I had done my part.
-Matchu screaming at the crowd to get out of the way as the ambulance approached.
-Max's face right after I kissed him.
-Failing at Jiu Jitsu in the mudpit where the owl used to be.
-Other times not rated PG-13. Probably not even rated R. I don't know how rating systems work these days.

I picked at the scab as my knee tried to heal. My efforts were rewarded with a dark brown scar on my knee, in the shape of an apostrophe. We can pretend that it looks like an owl though.