The other day, I walked up to the corner of Trade and Tryon like I usually do. I stood there for a moment looking around, enjoying the breeze. On one corner, there was a flower stand. On another corner there was a man singing “oldie but goodies” with his mic and amp. On the other corner there was a man chanting “Hare Krishna” with his little finger cymbal clanging on the beat. Next to me, there was a man with a boombox playing and dancing.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, let it out, and thanked God for allowing me to be there. There was plenty of room for me.

“Speak Up Magazine!” I called out.