If you had to guess my major, what would it be? English Language and Literature? Politics, Philosophy, and Economics? Sociology? If I had to take a guess at which one you’d pick, I think it would involve a ridiculous amount of writing.
I clutch it in my hand, pat my pocket every so often, and scroll aimlessly when I hold it, just to know it’s there. My phone is my lifeline; it connects me to the rest of the world, and without it, I would be lost.
When I first stepped into the Journal office, it wasn’t nearly a perfect fit. The floors were covered in a respectable layer of dust and the couches reeked of cigarette smoke. I’ve now spent three years here, losing sleep over all the ways we could be better, wanting to take a breath.
I was thirteen years old when I performed my first magic trick. All I had to do was say the words “law school” to my parents, and they’d transform into different people. The perpendicular worry-lines which marked my mother’s forehead softened. My father smiled.