razor sharp thunderstorms
The Day I Came to LA the thunderstorms were so ferocious our plane was grounded. Our checked baggage was returned to us after eleven hours of standing by for the opportunity to take off. We were instructed to come back the following day in hopes of the unG-dly weather subsiding. My waterlogged suitcases weighed a ton. Everything inside was drenched and funky. I spent the next eleven hours doing laundry and drying out the suitcases. Then I repacked, reboarded and took off for LA. Not once did I question whether I was being given the most blatant omen known to man – torrential downpour. Maybe LA was not the place for me but I was two months past my eighteenth birthday and G-d himself couldn’t stop me. An uneven mix of headstrong, stubborn and razor sharp made me a danger to mostly myself. But I was off and that was that.
