Riffalike (riffalike) wrote in 14000_bfe,
Riffalike
riffalike
14000_bfe

0853 EDT

"Calm. Cool. Collected." That's what I kept saying to myself as I stared over the wheel at the Arbor Lakes buildings. "C'mon, you've had easy interviews before." I recalled two times of being utterly relaxed in a job-seeking process I normally hate. I'm even early this time, as opposed to my usual two minutes late.

At the seven minute mark before my followup interview is when fate threw me a flashback to when I worked at U-M's NOC and a 5-point-something happened in Pennsylvania, felt all the way across Ohio and into Michigan. My car shook just a little, which I attributed to being at ground and not in a swaying building like back then. It was just a quick tremor. My ears popped. The cellphone beeped twice from the dashboard.

I got out to put on my suitcoat and I saw trees, so many trees that I couldn't see Plymouth Road much less Domino's Farms. I'd been in the shadow of Arbor Lakes but now the building itself was in the shadow of old growth. Each exit from the lot ran asphalt right up to the base of a tree, including the one I'd driven up not five minutes earlier.

The sound came next, a whining buzz of billions of insects from all around the parking lot. Something here was seriously not right. I picked up my cellphone and read the "Searching for signal..." message. Well, if I'd lost my mind, I picked the right car to do it by. I opened the trunk and picked up two things. I hesitated, reconsidered and threw the machete back down before I stuffed the pistol holster into the back of my pants, and walked up to Arbor Lakes.

After all, I can sort of legally conceal a gun through an interview (if there was one now). The other stuff would be here when I got back.
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