Midday crackling. The unmistakable explosion of thunder fills the air as little girls who should not be outside right now scream. Dogs bark, planes scramble to the airport and a paparazzi flash fills my vision so quickly I wasn't sure it even happened.
Judgment day was upon the Mountain View community, may God's wrath be swift and merciful.
Friday afternoon, graduation plus 5. Afternoon thunderstorms are an occasional part of life in a California summer. Despite the restless air, not a drop has leaked from the gray mass blocking the mountains from view.
Earlier I wrote down some words that were not mine, from an interview I didn't do. It's grunt work but still the most proactive thing I have done so far with my new life.
My life as an "educated" pre-professional.
I dispatched my resume to the local newspaper a few day's ago. A shot in the dark at my parents suggestion. I don't expect much to come of it. A speaker at my commencement ceremony joked that my graduating class had impeccable timing to be entering the job market at the least opportune moment in 50 years. A real riot of a sentiment. All the same, it was true. Truer for me perhaps because I was hoping to partake in an industry which will never bounce back.
A newspaper man. That was never my intention; my only plan was to write because I thought it something I could do. Journalism was just the familiar face of my fractured aspirations.
I really hope I can make something of this.
The wind is picking up and the trees are dancing. It feels tropical. The storm has moved on and only the occasional beat can be heard above the din of passing traffic.
These are the echoes of sentiment from a college graduate 5 days into "reality". A clap of thunder reverberating off a mountainside.
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