There have been too many Saturday nights after the bars where I have seen that purple bell glowing in the distance, and have sprinted my ass as fast as possible to get to the shining doors known as Taco Bell.
In 2012, Hurricane Katrina slammed through the city of New Orleans. My father, living there at the time, had no means to leave so he endured the storm in the Superdome. He wrote the following poem during his time:
Lately, my dreams have been the most vivid they have been in years. I wake up each morning feeling as if I have just had an entire expedition, adventure, or even tragedy. I can't help but think that the extremes of my dreams correlate to my day by day life.