NATHAN CROWTHER

Waiting sustains an unshakable expectation in my chest, Nigrum is the first sector that shows me a certain warmth and will of its population; funny because it's the second poorest in Atlanta even though it's extremely important for the country, maybe in my government I can change a lot of things around here, however right now all I can do is feel this energy that emanates from the arena that awaits the girl who will fight for the crown, I'm standing in front of the podium; my gaze remains serious as usual, my eyebrows are drawn together expressing the severity of my soul, I stare at the bottom where a floor of dry sand stretches out; the presenter enters at this moment with an extremely exaggerated outfit, in shades of fire and gold, the suit shines that blinds me, he positions himself in the corner of the arena, the microphone goes up to his lips as a wide and false smile is made on his face, he starts a brief introduction and then announces the girl's name; on a beautiful white hors