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Marcus Edwards


Come with me if you will, to a place you know well. As we go into the back of your mind we travel through a maze of knowledge and memories until we come to that tireless gate keeper. He speaks of the trivial things, as you search inside for the fee. You muse over the price as you cross the threshold into a world that keeps all secrets. And so you go, into the night, but it ends as quickly as it begins when that screaming demon pulls you through that one way turnstile into that overrated realm of reality. Upon pacifying the demon and once again becoming motionless you try to re-enter, but the demon calls you again, and so the day begins. Into a tedious world of befuddled rules and fools you  journey looking forward to that moment when your head is reunited with the pillow. As the days become more laborious, that endless world of unknown fortunes seems a welcome refuge. Waking hours are more like nightmares. Day dreams seem less fulfilling and more like low-budget movies. Day-to-day living becomes night to night with anxious anticipation of tangible goals.

The spotlight dims and the audience comes back into view as you taxi down the runway. The roar of the crowd lulls you into lucidity. After the nth curtain call you wonder if the applause will ever end. Bowing and blowing kisses seems so cliché as you inconspicuously search your pockets for a ticket stub hoping it doesn’t say “one way.” As you walk back across the deserted midway littered with empty cups and candy wrappers, you wonder if the rides were truly free