I hope that I have done this subject matter justice.
New shoes squeak. Borrowed suit pinches my armpits. Nevertheless, I feel good. First impressions matter. Freshly shaven, I walk briskly down the street to my interview.
All is well until I hear the helicopter approaching.
My blood runs cold. Terror takes over. Desperately, I seek a hiding place before the bombs start to drop. A dumpster catches my eye. I climb inside and hunker down amongst the refuge, mumbling to myself.
High overhead, the traffic helicopter reports the on the latest hotspots, but I’m lost in another world. All thoughts of the job interview swept from my mind.