Photo by Jad Limcaco on Unsplash

“Please sit back, relax, and treat your senses with this feast for the soul. Once your artistic minds have indulged in my audition, I’m confident you too will conclude that I merit the starring role in America’s new favorite masterpiece.”

Thirteen Hours Earlier

“Congrats, kid, you’ve snapped up a valuable ticket to a juvenile detention center.” I froze.

“A framed sketch of a running horse hangs on the wall above a double bed” by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Back to Now

The stranger sat down after intervening on my behalf. He was amazed by audition, or so I’d like to believe. That was the easy part though; the part that I knew every step and every note of. But I had no practice with having a dad there. I mean, he was my dad according to my mom but he was a stranger to me like a new babysitter. I didn’t call him dad at first. I just avoided talking to him. But, as anyone with a maternal force of nature knows, I didn’t get my way for long. The night of the audition, we went out to a restaurant to celebrate- just me and my parents and the lingering thought that we might all be wondering the same thing: what comes next?

Photo by Matt Artz on Unsplash

I write poetry, prose, and personal pieces. All images are mine unless indicated otherwise. Feel free to leave feedback on my work anytime; I hope you enjoy.

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