My Last Dance With Handcuffs

It was only a few minutes after they sat me down on a hard wooden bench when the realization set in. This was me. I was back in a place I never wanted to revisit.
I was handcuffed to a metal pie which ran beneath the bench and sat between two different types of drunks. To my right was a tall, thin, and lanky black man, feminine as could be and drunk, and complaining on a frequent basis that his handcuffs were on too tight. To my left was another man, heavyset and equally feminine, often echoing his co-defendants plea about his handcuffs being too tight. I was between them and when a brief pause of silence came to the scene, I quickly became aware of what I had done.

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A Letter For You

I was heading south down A1A with the moon-roof open, the windows down, the sea to my left and the land to my right. The town of Melbourne was behind me and Vero Beach was ahead. I was thinking of the world I knew and how much it had change.
I thought about the vastness of the sea and how I hoped that one day, I would find myself ocean bound, heading outwards into the mystic of turquoise blue with the warm sun above me, the canopy of a blue sky overhead, no clouds, no distraction, no emotion, except of course for the joy of my stillness, which is a sensation of warm content like the first touch of a summer breeze.

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My City

After the winter when the ground began to thaw, I felt a certain indescribable feeling, which came over me as the sun grew warmer. Finally, our side of the world moved closer towards the sun. It was springtime and there was a feeling that came over me, which was more like a sensation than anything else. The ground had thawed and the trees were turning green. The sky was blue with patches of white, pillowy clouds, and at last, the air was warm enough to shed the coats and jackets.

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