The signs as Taylor Swift albums
  • <p><b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b>Fearless:</b> Aquarius, Virgo, Gemini<p/><b>Speak Now:</b> Pisces, Libra, Capricorn<p/><b>Red:</b> Cancer, Sagittarius, Taurus<p/><b>1989:</b> Aries, Leo, Scorpio<p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p>

Last week I ran the 1600 at regionals. When I crossed the finish line, I stood there for awhile with my hands on my knees yet ecstatic on the inside. As I was walking off the track, someone called my name. When I turned around, it was the race official. I was stunned that he even knew my name. He walked up to me and held out his hand. I accepted the honorable handshake and he told me, “Remember the bullet that got you to the state meet.” When we drew our hands apart and he walked away, I opened my hand. Resting on the palm of my hand was the casing from the bullet that started the race. The race that has led to the last race of my high school career. My last high school memory.

One more time.
Give me that crack of the gun.
Just one last time.