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©2018 by Abdul-Ahad Patel.

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DANCING DIAMONDS



The grass cushion soothes my broken body from the rigorous training from the week. Whilst everyone else is out partying I find peace between the twenty- and thirty-yard line. I’d lie here for eternity to remain at peace, rather than live in this suffering.


The pressure of being a college football star. My relationship with Elu is starting to strain, she is staying in Montana until summer is over. My teammates are all yes men, they only seem to have an interest in my life when it benefits their popularity. Between the twenty- and thirty-yard line I can be no one. I am no one amongst the goliath stars of the dark canvas, I am merely a spectator of the dancing diamonds.


Duane Toa, number ‘52’. When the banners fall, the bleachers empty and the floodlights reveals history. All it shows is one-hundred yards. In those one-hundred yards it shows how insignificant I am and I love that fact. So, when I am just another name in the year book and just another number on glorified fabric. Bury me five-yards from twenty and five-yards below thirty. Let my eyes be at peace in sight of the dancing diamonds.

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