August 2009
1 post
Elizabeth F.A. Meaney
The Class of 2009
The winter the squirrels starved, we were scared seniors without jobs. In a secondhand suit and shoulder pads, you went on forty-three job interviews. Your resume was well-printed, and they liked you, of course; your curly hair and eager words, your salary demanded lower each time, as if your financial security was a limbo and you could hover between the bar and your ...