It was shiny with bright reflective glass reflecting the clear sky and a few clouds. From the outside, no one could tell something was terribly wrong; terribly out of place. I approached the office building with caution. Myself, I did not know exactly what I was doing there, but I knew that I had to be there. Apparently, the Palestinians owned this particular office building and even though there were no known conflicts going on within the United States, security was heightened tremendously. The lobby was sectioned off like a chessboard where people uniformly walked single-filed across the lobby in eight lines all scrutinized by eight Palestinian soldiers carrying rifles.
The routine was simple-just walk across the lobby in your assigned line at a normal pace, without any hesitations and without any signs of anxiousness, and they will not question, they will not shoot. My bag was checked and cleared. I threw the strap around my shoulder, walked to my assigned line, and started walking up the line. Midway across the lobby I heard a bullet buzzing by, near me. It was like a passing whisper in the air. I dropped to the ground. Another one flew by, then another. Packs of people suddenly rushed from the elevators from the building, trampling over me stampeding toward the exits. As soon as I anticipated a gap, I jumped up and like a salmon going upstream, I rushed forward and dodged it into an empty elevator. Falling to my knees, I repetitedly pushed the door close button. A few seconds later, the doors closed and I sighed in relief.
Once upstairs, business was as usual. I informed the employer that I would not be able to come back anymore. He noted to me that what happened downstairs was normal procedure and people get used to it. I noted again that I did not think I was to return anymore. He then turned to me and started hollering at me two inches from my face. I was taken back and wanted to explain my position, but nothing came out when I opened my mouth-nothing.
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