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Audrey, 19

Updated: Jun 19, 2020

Arcade lights flashed their tired bulbs, flickering to an indefinite sleep. 

Rusted swings sat patiently still on warm spring days, nobody coming to fill the park with that familiar song of childhood creaks.

Pews collected dust, classrooms fell silent.

The stop light turned green, then red, green, then red. Nobody came, nobody went. 

Empty stadiums. Empty fields. Empty parking lots. Empty shelves. 


While the world outside froze like a scratch in a record, we all held our breaths and waited for the music to play again. 


Inside was a different story. Inside was a makeshift orchestra-- a house full of kids home from college, a business woman realizing that mornings in her apartment are a delight compared to sitting in rush hour, a pet rejoicing that their human is no longer a passerby. 


The music never stopped playing, it was simply quieter.


Pick up the out-of-tune guitar, play an off-key melody. 

You never had the time to learn before.


Bring out the baking pans, forego the standmixer. 

You hand whisk things- it takes longer.


Read. Everything on your list that you’ve put off for when you were less busy. 

Listen to audiobooks when your eyes get tired. 

Write your own story when you grow bored with the plot. 


And when the outside world wakes from her rest,

When the fair comes to town again and the families flock to the parks,

When places of worship are filled with choirs of rejoice, 

when students take their spots at their desk with refreshed minds,


Remember that it was never just the places that were special.

It was the people within them that made it extraordinary.




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