Alone

Crisp morning air saturates my face as I exist the terrorist threatened State Department headquarters.

I must get out of here!

Brushing gently across the back of my right shoulder, a soft hand jerks me out of my head.

“Where are we supposed to go?” my friend and fellow Presidential Management Fellow, Sarah, asks, as if I have an answer.

Why would I have an answer? I don’t know what’s going on!

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