My goals flashed before my eyes until I saw who tried to talk to me. It was one of my upperclassmen friends who helped mentor me. The one guy with the afro and made conscious lyrics.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to space out, Tito.” I apologized.
“No worries, Yasmina. What’s going on?” He wondered.
“Well, I have to make another composition for my class. I’m going to use my cello as a lead instrument, but I have to come up with additional accompaniment for more instruments.” I responded.
“Is it anything like I saw when you spilled the sheet music that one time?”
“Kind of. The one common denominator is that it involves Sylvester Wheeler’s fantasy themes.”
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