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So I'm walking back from my theater class, quickly
approaching the back door to Sexton Residence Hall. My
efforts and my eyes focused on the door, and all of a
sudden a huge white trash bag, yes full of trash, rapidly
hits the steps to the back door and then falls off onto
the ground. "Is the sky falling?" I said to myself.
Quickly I disregarded that idea, feeling a little silly.
Of course the sky isn't falling; the sky is blue. Before
thinking too hard about that, I made a swift upward
movement with my head to see where this mysterious bag of
trash was flying from, but faster than Garfield can scarf
down lasagna, a second trash bag squeezed through the
bottom of the screen in the upstairs window, slammed the
steps, and rolled onto the ground. Did I really just see
that? Had I been walking in the door at just that moment,
the mysterious hands behind the trash-bag-dropping-
massacre (we'll call her Jane Deutsch) may have been
guilty of a very serious injury. Is it that troubling to
walk down 16, maybe 17 steps to assure the preservation of
a very important person in today's society? I mean, how
would you be entertained weekly without my usual, lame
journal entries? Who would you laugh at when I say things
like "sweet action" and "right on." Who would tell you
you're the bomb.com and truly mean it? Yeah, I thought
so. I think I should write a letter to the President of
Centenary College about this. Did I tell you he named his
rocking horse after me? Micah. MICAH! Micah: One who is
like God. Rings powerfulness, eh? Too bad I'm not
assertive or agressive and I'm more of a follower. That's
why I'm not going to write that letter. Who is this
mystery Jane Deutsch? I fear we'll never know..