Dismissed For Lacking A Degree, I Let My Life Speak For Itself – The Archivist

She stood, her chair scraping softly against the hardwood floor, and moved toward me with her arms outstretched.

“Jordan,” she breathed, her voice trembling with carefully practiced emotion. “Oh, my baby. You came home.”

The embrace lasted exactly three seconds. Long enough to appear genuine to anyone watching, short enough that I could feel how forced continue reading …