Armand’s eyebrows bent to absurd angles as he finished the stanza. He sat dazed as his door swung open.
“Armand, was that YOU?!”, his younger sister Bethany yelled, her eyes as wide as her big open mouth. Pigtailed and wearing overalls, she leaned on the door handle for support. “That couldn’t have been you, that was way too fresh. Fresh to death! What hot new album are you rocking in here? I heard it through the wall!” She searched around with her eyes and eventually landed on Armand sitting there – a paper in his hand.
“It WAS you!” Total disbelief had her rapt attention as she asked “Wait, do it again, but this time…” and with that, she ran to his radio, turned on the hottest most local rap station, and bobbed her head to the beat – keeping time with her pointer finger and indicated to Armand to start rapping in tempo. He reread the poem he had unknowingly written, and sure enough, when put on top of a strong beat like the one pulsing through his speakers, a beautiful thing happened! It was rap gold!
“…I runna mile, jus’a see you smile…” he finished, to the total amazement of both himself and Bethany. She turned down the volume and they stood – frozen in silence.