Snowflakes skidded into his head as he walked across the Drill, the last breath of winter battling against the coming spring. With graduation in three weeks, he walked a little more easy, on the downhill run he liked to think of it.
Five years had become six when he stumbled in the early going, finding it difficult to make the transition from high school achiever to average college freshman. Back then, the As and Bs didn't come so easily; he had been allowed to repeat part of the first year, given a second chance. Now came the pay-off, the degree from one of the best tech schools in the nation. There would be three years of internship, more hard work, but then he would have a life of his own.
He stopped at the studio to drop off the renderings that would become part of his portfolio when he interviewed. It would only take a second, save him from having to walk all the way back after the morning class.
The professor asked about job offers while he ran his eye over the drawings. Excited, the student spoke of positions available in Richmond, in Boston, but he had his heart set on Chicago, back home. The Olympics, the professor said, and they chatted about the odds of the United States winning the host city competition for 2016. What an incredible, once in a lifetime opportunity that would be, to be an architect in the firm that was designing the facilities. The young man's future was before him, exciting, vibrant.
What was only going to take a minute had taken much longer. He was running late now, going to be late to class, but at this point in his college career, if a guy couldn't show up five minutes past time...
Can't go in there, he heard someone say. The lights of police cars and ambulances flashed off the walls of the building. He was late for class, in the building that he could not go in. Gunshots echoed, loud, there were gunshots. Oh God, he said. Maybe he shouted the words. Maybe he only thought the words. Oh God.
I'm okay, Mom, he said into his cell phone. His voice began to quaver, to shake. I'm okay. I was late for class. I talked to a professor, and I was late. I'm okay.
2 comments:
I had a similar experience when I was 17 and decided to obey my mother, for once, and go home. Had I stayed with my friends, I would have died with my friends in the car going 80mph around a corner within the city limits.
...
Perhaps the Fates had cut a longer thread of life for this particular young man.
It's random, completely random...we know neither the time nor the place.
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