| A team of dancers is practicing on my roof tonight. The rhythmic rapping and unisonal tapping sounds like a choreographed number from West Side Story. A team of horses is racing on my roof tonight. The forceful pound of each distinct hoof; feels like twenty stallions will soon join me. A team of soldiers is marching on my room tonight. The stomp of each boot is faintly heard over the crack of rifle fire. Outside it is raining, and all I can do is sit here and accept it. |