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Atlanta's Journey-Personal Narrative

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Atlanta, the center of the world. Jewel of the Carolinian federation. That’s what everyone calls it. I've lived here for over ten years and made my existence in the outer skirts. Farmlands and rice fields are what I know; it's what I learned. Everyone seems to love their vegetables. Corn, rice, greens, and gourds. Few require the want or money to need red meat regularly. It's not like we have too much space to raise beef cows anyway. The thing I remember about my mother and father are they could not keep me. I remember them going on a train and chugging away in God knows what direction, I was but four-years-old. I didn’t even have a photo of them. I got to reference. For many times, I've described their likeness to the city records’ painter. …show more content…

I dip my pen in the inkwell and write. "Soaring messenger on the horizons, Not lone but with companion’s forms trio, Sending the collapse of mighty fathers and sons, The message brings love with a duo." I look at the clock again and see it's already 8. The shop should be busy with gossipers from the announcement. I put on my sleep clothes like a sloth, one piece at a time at molasses pace. I start up the creaky stairs to my room and see out the window the city still showing its colors on the walls, banners, and lights alike. The bed is cold, but it warms up quickly. I love how my silver and blue covers seek to keep me warm like a comforting thing wrapping around my body protecting me. What will tomorrow hold? What will next week hold? Next month? It’s like Fox said, ‘These times are times to protect each other. What will I do to answer this call?’ I can't fight! I can farm, serve, and make a home! And who says that’s not contributing? I fall to sleep thinking about the future of Carolina. The future of Atlanta, the future of

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