In western Nevada there is a beautiful desert. Many thing of the desert as a dull brown hellscpae. If you take a moment to look closer you’ll see the desert is a mosaic of hues. Stunning hills cut through the dry, sandy landscape. Different colored rock beds stacked like a dirt-colored cake. Even the fauna are dressed in bright colors. Geckos with scales like the hills of Ireland; birds with feathers resembling the wares of a candy store. On a clear day, the sky might even make a scuba diver homesick. Stunning sunsets glow and flow like an erupting volcano. When the sun sets at the end of a desert day, the darkness can almost make one forget how much color uses to be visible around them.
Charlie was the last to leave the locker room. He sat taking it all in. Four years of bonding, laughing, and growing had taken place in this room. He knew months ago that senior year meant he would soon play his final game. He could faintly hear the sounds of the crowd cheering and the warm up music bumping. On his way out of the locker room, Charlie paused in the doorway, looking back into the room that shaped who he had become. He dedicated his life to this game. In return, the game steered him toward his best life.
Andrew really began to sweat as he reached the 32nd floor. He was pushing himself to new heights. Interestingly, he chose not to record today depsite his plan to achieve a new personal record. This feat was just for him. His followers always found a way to make it about themselves anyway. As if they were other ones ascending dangerously above the level most people chose to exist at. He was approaching this final altitude, the summit, the 35th floor. He started pulling himself over the ledge. Sweat falling from his face to the rubbery rooftop as he kicked his second leg over the railing. He removed his suctions cups to relieve him fingers after the 56 minutes climb. Andrew gazed upon the metropolis before him. New York sure looked small from high above the city.
There I was - the historic First Avenue! I had just entered the main room of the venue, the opening band beginning to warm their instruments. I could see the passion through the lead singer’s tattered shirt - the shirt longing for a wash. I glanced down at my perfectly pressed button down. It had always been a dream of mine to be part of a band. The bassist was standing at the back of that stage swigging on a beer while joking with the other band members. I’m standing alone in crowd drinking a water. I never belonged here anyway….
