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Also, check out the rest of my concrete poetry and other creative ventures in the Design Samples tab! Click here to check out Muncie's local street art and leave some pictures in the comments of your favorite pieces around town!
Here's a small taste of what awaits in my first photo essay: Standing by my car, I take a drag off my cigarette, blowing the smoke out through my nose. I wrestle with a box of my things and attempt to balance it on my knee, my right hand jingles my keys in the left pocket of my jeans as I listen to the autumn breeze caressing my tear-stricken face. Throwing the butt into the gravel beneath my feet, I twist my foot to extinguish the spark. I pace slowly towards the front door. My hand feels cool on the metal as I slowly turn the knob, kicking the uprooted “For Sale” sign leaning against the frame before entering my home for the last time.
Age Six: Running around the pool table away from my father, his footsteps are thunderous like the clouds outside, but I am not afraid. He catches me, muscular arms wrapped around my minute frame, and I laugh as he tickles me. His beard nuzzles my cheek; I smell the alcohol on his breath. It’s a familiar scent that stains the air around us. He puts me down on the table, showing me how to hold a pool stick. My fingers do not bend the way he wants, but I develop my own way of shooting. Making contact with the cue ball, the eight ball falls into a corner pocket. I jump up excitedly, yelling my accomplishments, as the stick smacks the white ceiling. I stop in my tracks, suddenly afraid of the booming voice rattling in my skull. [To continue reading this essay, please see the original file I have attached in the "Read More" section.)
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