Stormy Skies

I finished moving into my residential college as a storm began - fat raindrops, as big as coconuts, falling from a black and fouling sky. These northerners were acting like a "tropical storm" (Henri) was a big deal. “Surely New England gets storms?” I ask, from behind my mask. “What about NOR_Easters?” I say, like a meteorologist. “Those are different.” I’m told, with no other explanation. “Did you bring this storm from the “SOUTH?” I’m asked, accusingly. *(This was after I told them about coming from one ”bulldog-college-town” to another.)* “Yes.” I reply, “It was in my luggage.” A silly question but they have a point - the storm feels like it’s involved and fulfilling some obligation to dramatize my college move-in story. “Time to quarantine!” I’m informed - “Yep, can’t WAIT!” I lie. One disaster at a time.