A Storm On The Horizon

A Satire

A+Storm+On+The+Horizon

John Kirages, Staff Writer

The details cited in this article relating to College Board control over the weather have not been reported on by the Associated Press (AP) as of yet. This is a satire, a commentary on the AP Exam season.

 

He stirs gently in his sleep, the sun gently lights the room, the warmth just cresting over the trees across the street, pouring through the curtainless window. Outside, birds tweet, reminding the world that, at long last, Spring is here. His phone begins to buzz, and the sweet sound of the Electric Light Orchestra begins to reverberate around the room.

He groans softly and rolls out of bed, quickly dressing to the sound of Mr. Blue Sky. He feels energized and joyful. Like everything will turn out great today. Like he woke up on the right side of the bed. He wolfs down his breakfast, brushes his teeth, and goes to give his mom a hug goodbye. They embrace, and he dashes out the front door and passes through the golden beams of sunlight on his way to the bus.

Standing at the front door, his mother waves goodbye and shouts, “Good luck on your tests today!”

The brilliant music inside his head screeches to a halt, becoming a discordant, atonal jumble of notes and shrieks. Suddenly, clouds seem to apparate in the morning sky and the brilliant golden glow is replaced by a dark, grey mass. The calming warmth transforms into a biting, cold wind that whips his hair to and fro; the suddenness of its appearance nearly sweeping him from his feet. The birds that dot the trees leap to the air sprinting southward, their screeching a cacophony that matches the noises within his head.

He’d made a fatal mistake.

He had forgotten about his two AP Exams today.

 

Later that day, finally home from the tests, he makes his way from the bus up his iced-over driveway, crystalline shards of hail peppering him from the sky. The shorts and t-shirt he had worn to school are long-since soaked. His teeth chattered. Though it is only 4:00, the sun dips down below the horizon, cutting off the last vestige of light and warmth in this cold, cruel world. His phone rings suddenly, his friends wondering if he will be free tonight, but at this point, all he wants is to do is rest his aching head and to sleep. For in his dreams, the College Board cannot harm him. At least, so he hopes.