sjsprWriting

Throwback to being on top of a four story tower last week with my friends. The tower isn’t exactly a “stable” edifice, but it hasn’t fallen over yet. From the top, I stood and admired the view. It’s a calming sight to see. To my left I saw broken down fire trucks, standing proud on the dirt and grass, circled by old cars and old car parts. To my right: big, perfect cement cylinders lie in the shade of a low-hanging tree. Straight ahead is the ocean canal, small boats, and the occasional cargo ship, pass by, they all look to be going incredibly slow from where I stood. Behind the tower is a cargo loading area. Sometimes this area is empty, other times there are enormous blue and red boxes as far as the eye can see.

The iPhone Music Shuffle Gods were smiling on us that day, it was one fire song after the other. My brothers and I were feeling the rhythm inside of us. We all knew what was missing: the poetry. It started off slow, one of us saying a verse or 4, nothing too exciting. But eventually all of us were standing, moving to the beat, and going one after the other, spitting out fire freestyles. These weren’t you’re average “say-random-things-that-rhyme” freestyles, they were good. The words we were letting out inevitably became too hot, and we had to stop for fear of dehydration.

Followed by my brothers, I walked down the rickety wooden stairs to the base of the tower, and then stepped off onto the grass. We got into my car, and drove away, knowing the day wasn’t over yet.