Blog 1

The day started off with a single guitar being majestically plucked in the middle of the Foxberry lobby, flooding the halls with a sound almost impossible to replicate. 

Shawn O’Flanagan, a new Irish exchange student, walked into the unfamiliar space in the early misty morning. By the looks of his foreign, curly red hair, the brightness of his extra blue eyes, and the hundreds of freckles covering his small nose and high cheeks, it was obvious that Shawn was not from the city. His arms were covered in a sleeve of tattoos and hands occupied by a ripped black guitar case, which he carried almost everywhere he traveled. Not knowing about the horrific event that had just occurred in the apartment building, Shawn walked in with hopes of finding a place to call home while studying nearby.



 Excited to continue his journey, he looked around at the lobby, looking for someone to greet him. An older man approached him with an utter look of unpleasantness. As he walked up to Shawn, he carefully looked up at the tall Irishman's red hair, glanced at this abnormal looking arms, and back down toward the ground at his ripped up guitar case. “I'm assuming you play” grunted the man. “A tad”, replied Shawn in an over-the-top, friendly matter. Continuing to look at Shawn with a dissatisfied look, the man paused for a few uncomfortable moments of silence, then slowly walked away.

Still not knowing what to do, Shawns eyes narrowed to the broken fountain located a few feet away from the walkway where he was still awkwardly standing. Without a doubt in his mind, he casually walked over to the fountain and unzipped the ripped guitar case. As he sat down, he put the guitar on his lap and began to elegantly pluck the strings, filling the somber building. 

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