By Ryan Hallam
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Distorted
Records, head laid back, hearing two separate conversations each ear takes one
My
name is? Something? Trying to remember words, are scrambled eggs.
Missed
you, and your calls woke up on the park bench. Strangers perplexed, puzzled,
wish to be alone, one picks up a phone, turn my head away close my eyes and
start to dream
Tea
leaf dancers circling around me. Heartly Harps resurrect me. Siren sounds turn
to reality.
About the Author
Ryan Hallam is in his last semester at ICC. Ryan currently lives in Washington Illinois. Usually, he is quite shy, but his stories allow him to be vocal on themes and aspects of life he wonders about. Besides school and work, Ryan spends most of his time attempting standup comedy at the Jukebox Comedy Club. Standup is a passion of his and helps him share his unique observations.