Etching, no, rather drawing with blackened markers, I was able to rhythmically express my innards through the exposition of strides. Constrained by the boiling classroom, seething with children, all, much younger, I enraged my body and subsequently dislodged the anger through the creation of the drawing.
Children, come bring glory to my zip code. And beckon the cloak of the governing woman.
- J. A. Kind
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