CRW Poem - tenses The salty-sweet smells of giant turkey...

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Anna Whitehouse 10 October 2010 Highflying Fears at the State Fair Hard plastic seats and steal chains cradle Rob and I. This “steel-death-trap” as he calls it will lift us into the grey sky above the fair grounds. His smile betrays the anxiety he’s trying to conceal. Our bare feet dangle over abandoned flip- flops —only Wilmington kids would wear sandals in that cold. Rob grabs my hand as the ride begins and I smile easily. Once in the air my body relaxes as his
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Unformatted text preview: tenses. The salty-sweet smells of giant turkey legs and funnel cakes wash over me. The excitement of childhood pulls at the corners of my mouth, this feeling, unlike the deep fried treats and rickety rides, is priceless. Rob exhales for the first time as the chair began its decent towards the muddy grass below. We hop down one at a time from our swing, warmed by promises of apple cider. I never want to grow up....
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This note was uploaded on 01/05/2012 for the course CRW 210 taught by Professor Staff during the Spring '11 term at University of North Carolina Wilmington.

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