The Renaissance Festival
Jeremy Beaumont stared himself down in the bathroom mirror, trying to find a way to make his resolve appear more intense. He started with pointing a finger at himself, but it wasn't cutting it, so he leaned in closer to the mirror until the top of his head was touching it at a forty-five degree angle. "Today is the day you make it happen," he said to himself, now pressing his finger against the mirror as if he was jabbing it into his own chest. "No more excuses. You've been wanting this for years, and the longer you wait to make it happen the more miserable you'll be." Whatever he was attempting to do with this whole charade was actually starting to work and Jeremy could feel a swell of determination bubbling in his guts. He was ready to start his life over again as a new person. Everything was about to change. "Today is the day," he felt his words even harder now. "Today is the day you finally buy a sword from the Renaissance Festival....
