Rain on my Desteny by Erika Sams

Everything in Amy’s life had led up to this day, an interview for her dream job in publishing. She wasn’t fully qualified, but after a couple white lies on her resume and a slightly unethical amount of pestering, she finally had an actual chance. Destiny must have a fucked-up sense of humor though because she woke up to emergency alerts on her phone followed immediately by a flash of lightening through her bedroom and an angry clap of thunder. Wind whooshed loudly against the house as raindrops tapped the window in persistent unison.

Amy groaned audibly and went to turn on her bedside lamp. It clicked, but nothing happened. Power was out. Amy fell back into her bed, she had a couple hours before her alarm went off, so hopefully it would be back on by then. She reported the outage on her phone and then tried to go back to sleep. The neighbor’s dog howled loudly enough she could hear, and the sky’s angry growl made it hard to fall back asleep. She wasn’t sure how long she laid there with the pillow over her ears before she finally drifted back off to sleep.

Amy woke 3 hours later to sunlight shining through her window. Panic ran through her spine and with a gasped she jolted into a sitting position. Grabbing her phone, she realizes she needs to be leaving within the next few minutes. It’s still actively raining, though better than it was earlier. She attempts to turn her lamp on, and it still isn’t working. Throwing her covers off, she stumbles around the room getting herself ready as fast as she can. Without power, she had to brush her teeth with a bottle of water. Luckily, she had taken a shower the night before, but her hair looked like rats had been playing obstacles in it all night, and without power she couldn’t use her straightener. She used clips and bobby pins laying it as professionally as she could. Using her phone light to see she did a very quick neutral look and hoped it stood up to the sunlight. She planned on wearing a skirt with her black blazer, but opted for pants due to the weather, still pairing them with her high heeled boots to take on the rain fashionably.

By the time she got to her car she was 15 minutes behind schedule; not great, but perhaps leaving her enough time to plead her case when she got there. A bright light shot across the sky and a loud crack followed close behind sending a jolt of anxiety through Amy’s already anxious body. She should stay home, there was no doubt of it. Still, she persisted cranking her car. It whined at her like a sign from the universe to stay put.

“Come on, not today,” she demanded, and like a grumpy but obedient child, her car clanked then cranked, “Yes!” she wanted to cry with victory but would not ruin her makeup over a few thankful tears.

As she pulled out of the driveway rain beat against her car so bad she could barely make out where the road was with her wipers on full swing. For any other job on any other day, she would stay home, but this was everything, her dream job, worth risking everything for, a literal once in a lifetime opportunity.

As she neared the end of the road, through the wave of rain, she could see a tree collapsed in the road. Slowing down to esses, the large tree was blocking 75% of the road. She decides to risk it and turn passed the tree on the right side, her car sliding in the mud of the neighbor’s grass, only her two left wheels staying on the pavement. Branches scratch the side of her car with the most horrifying screech. As she tries to pull back onto the road, her back tire spins. Pressing her gas harder, the tire spins deeper into the ground. She stops, panic tingling through her limbs, panting for breath. Closing her eyes she slows her breaths and begins to inhale deeply. “You can do this,” she tells herself.

Opening her eyes with new determination, she slowly presses her gas and gently eases herself forward hoping the left wheel can make up for where the right wheel is stuck. She moves forward, slowly increasing her pressure on the gas until all wheels are on the pavement. With a squeal of victory, Amy was back on her way. She made it to the highway with no further snags, though it was still hard to see, and she had to drive slower to be safe. Merging onto the highway, traffic was backed up, moving forward slowly with hazard lights for miles. Amy beats her head to the steering wheel before throwing herself back into the seat screaming in frustration. She is willing herself not to cry, but the tears are prickling against her eyes. Why of all days does it have to be today?

Opening her phone Amy calls the publishing house to let them know she still is coming. The number rings and rings until finally a voicemail box answers and she says, “Hi, this is Amy Peirce, I have an interview with Mr. Holland today. I wanted to let you know that I am on my way, I’m just stuck in traffic with this storm. I’m coming and will be there as soon as I can. Thank you for your understanding.”

Hanging up the phone she hoped they would understand. They barely gave her this chance and were likely interviewing her so that she would stop bugging them. This was a moment barely won, and nature was responding with a big middle finger.

She was on the highway for what felt like an eternity and when she got off it wasn’t much better. Two miles away from her destination there was another tree across the road, only this time it was much larger and fully blocking the road with no way around it. The cars in front of her were making a 3-point turn, and her heart sunk knowing she was going to have to do the same. She was further behind now and had to take a different route which added about 10 minutes to her trip.

Finally, she was in the city. Traffic was dense but moving. A small ray of hope with a touch of nervousness, her heartbeat quickened as she felt her destination approaching. But with gurgles and crackles from the car Amy’s attention was drawn to the gas light and she realized she was running out of gas.

“Fuck!” she cursed and quickly moved to the side of the road.

She was close enough to make a run for it. Grabbing her bag and her umbrella, she started running down the street. Three blocks down she made a turn and could see the publishing house up in the distance. A gust of wind came straight for her, yanking the umbrella out of her hand, “No!” she cried turning to see her umbrella flying faster than she could run. Thinking quickly, she took off for the publishing house, umbrella be damned.

When she made it to the office there was an overhang where she stopped to catch her breath. She squatted to the ground gasping for air and trying to compose herself, relief finally spreading through her. She stood, straightened her blazer, wiping her hair back and walked up to the front door. Grabbing the handle and trying to open, the door didn’t budge. Locked. It couldn’t be, she thought. Not after everything she had done to get here. She jerked the door back and forth in desperation, but it didn’t give. Pressing her face against the glass to look inside, the whole place was dark. Stepping back and looking around, she realized every storefront was vacant of lights or clientele. The whole strip was out of power, and everything closed.

She couldn’t hold herself together anymore, falling to the ground, her back pressed against the door, Amy wept. All the frustration, all the hope, the anxiety, and her dreams crumbling in her hands. The what ifs, the anger, she cursed the universe, and it clapped back at her with a boom of thunder.

Amy sat defeated on the doorstep of the publishing house for some time with the pieces of broken dreams in her hands. She had only one move left; opening her briefcase, she grabbed her resume, and slid it into the door as best as she could. Perhaps they would have mercy on her for the efforts she made and give her another chance. She then succumbed to her fate and walked through the rain, allowing it to drench her sulking skin. When she made it back to her car there was a yellow slip under her wiper blades. Looking up, she finally noticed the parking meter which in her panic she didn’t think to pay. Grabbing the drenched paper which practically fell apart in her hand, she got into her car, fell apart, and the universe cried with along.