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the sky is wicked huge.

It was a chilly night in January, and I found myself walking along Tremont St. towards Government Center. Naturally, I was shaking like a leaf thanks to the below freezing Boston temperature, and began to question why I had decided to step outside in the first place. Not to mention, questioning why I had decided to wear my lightest pair of jeans with only a leather jacket. I was walking with three of my friends who were talking in the background, and walking much too slow for the temperature we were braving. The night shared sounds of sirens with us, echoing in the distance against the hum of the cars driving past. Our destination on this cold, winter night—the Boston Harbor.


My friends and I had been talking about going to the Harbor for quite some time now, and determined that January 23rd was the night to do it. Also, in being the geniuses that we are, we figured that walking to the Harbor was the best idea; which it would have been if it weren’t below freezing outside. By the time we had reached Faneuil Hall, a little past Government Center, I was not all that content. I was freezing, my face felt like a block of ice, and our group was still moving at the pace of a snail. I immediately began to fully regret making this expedition. Because we were only halfway there, I suggested we turn around and head back, considering the state of the weather. However, I was over-

ruled. We continued on through Faneuil Hall, passing families huddling together for warmth, a small breakdancing group with hot steam rising up off of their bodies, little kids running around throwing snow at each other, shops making their last transactions, and not to mention people practically running past trying to escape the cold. Everything was so busy and rushed. I myself found my legs to be moving more quickly than usual. Things were becoming so stressful and agitating. I became restless and anxious and almost overwhelmed by the rushed nature of the popular site. Needless to say, by the time we reached our destination, I was in an unhappy state of mind. I could not feel my

bringing balance


The Sky is Wicked Huge.  
The Sky is Wicked Huge.  

Magazine project for Emerson College's WR121 Writing for Civic Engagement class, Spring '10.