Big City Dreams.

I step out of the yellow cab,

The smell of pizza wafts through my nostrils.

I stretch my neck

As my eyes try to reach the top of the skyscrapers.

I gasp,

How do they get up there?

It’s so tall!

Daddy’s hard calloused hands

Grab my itty bitty ones

As we walk through the crowded streets

Of New York City.

I try to keep up with Daddy’s long strides

As we cross the street

And step into line with other tall people.

Why is everything so big here?

I look at the building and see a poster of

The Lion King.

I can’t wait to see it!

I smile.

The man behind me takes out

A smoke.

I cough as he blows it in my direction.

Daddy pushes me in front of himself

So he can block the smoke.

It smells really icky,

I scrunch my nose in disgust.

The line finally moves

And we end up at the doors

Where a man in a red jacket stands.

Daddy gives the man our tickets,

Then we step through the doors.

I hold Daddy’s hand

As we walk down red-carpeted stairs to our seats.

We sit down near the front and I look around.

The red cushioned chairs are made for fat people,

But Daddy seems to fit fine and he’s not fat.

The stage has a black floor and a big red curtain hangs above.

A lady with big yellow hair and too much perfume sits next to me.

The lights go off and I grab Daddy’s hand,

I’m scared of the dark.

He squeezes it reassuringly as the audience hushes.

The curtains open slowly as music starts.

“Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful phrase.

It means no worries for the rest of your days.”

I bounce in my seat, smiling big,

To the beat of my favorite song.

Simba goes on stage along with his friend Nala.

I know that there’s a man and a lady

Underneath those costumes,

But they seem so real.

I want to be just like them

On stage playing my favorite movie.

That’s my big city dream.

Copyright © 2011 JG
All rights reserved.

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