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reflect

hands, my feet, my face, or anything for that matter. At that point, I didn’t care about where I was going I just wanted to go back to my warm room. However, I then realized that I had already come this far, I would regret it if I did not continue on. We made our way through Faneuil Hall, across yet another busy street, down a small alleyway, and then a large archway became visible. As we made our way under the arch, my spirits suddenly lifted. I was looking out onto the deep blue water of the Boston Harbor. I suddenly felt warm, at ease, and calm. I began ignoring the biting wind whipping my face, and became mesmerized by the lights from the buildings in the distance, shimmering on the

the sky is wicked huge.

surface of the water. Boats skimmed quietly in and out of picture, and everything seemed so peaceful. I walked across the wooden walkway and sat on a concrete slab right above the shoreline. I could hear the water lapping at the edge ever so slightly, and could hear the distant foghorns sounding. The city, for the first time in a long time, was at peace with me; and I was at peace with it. I was able to think clearly and be alone with my thoughts. Even though I had people surrounding me, I hadn’t felt so close to just myself in a long time. There was this moment in time where I was enjoying something so simple and easy; there were just the sounds of the ocean moving and the picturesque

city image glittering in the water’s reflection. It reminded me of home. It reminded me of my quiet suburban city I had grown so sick of after eighteen years. It reminded me of the way I would step outside and all would be quiet. I could hear the crows cawing and distant lawn mowers purring. I could see the little kids on my street riding around on their bikes and drawing on the asphalt with chalk. I could hear the quiet rustle of the palm trees in my front yard, and I could feel the warm breeze skim across my face. I felt all of this, even though I was so far away from home. I think this is why this moment meant so much to me. I was three-thousand miles away

ecnalab gnignirb

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The Sky is Wicked Huge.  

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

The Sky is Wicked Huge.  

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

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