THE WIND-UP

Teach Me

Chloe Bealer, Staff Writer

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Her spirit flies like a wild horse in the prairie. Her voice follows close behind. I look at her tattoos and her hair. She has no limits; she does what she wants. She sings her heart out, her voice belting across the street. I wish to be like her, free of the worry of society, living the life she loves. The life of music and freedom. She doesn’t care what people think; she wears her large tattoos with pride. For all to see. Her voice washes over the crowd, pulling us into a calm stupor. We sway with her hypnotizing movements, eyes rapt to her umbrella, framing her beautiful face and matching her beautiful soul.

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