“I want to be a music producer” I said nervously knowing my dream would not be received well. “you need to produce a job for these late bills” Mom says with God-like vigor.
I blow out the candles an outburst of cheers followed, all these people are staring at me, for a moment I’m being revered. The crowd parts, a smirking white man approach’s me and places his hand on my shoulder, “I’m sorry to see you go Doug”. “Two decades in middle management” I thought and today is the best day of my life, I can hear the melodies.