Copyright © 2002 LeeAnn Heringer
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Copyright © 2002 LeeAnn Heringer
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essays from the back of the bookit was the summer the plane tickets to Italy sat on the kitchen table, the pale envelope reminding me all promises are white until you touch them. it was the summer of the company's IPO where we drank champagne on the beach at sunset over an illegal bonfire and toasted our some-day-some-day-some-day all-this-will-be-ours uncashable paper fortune. the summer they gave me a T-shirt "the next internet billionaire" and I painted a red bullseye on it because wearing that shirt in the wrong part of town could get me killed. but even with the bullseye to add irony, I never wore it. breakfast still smells of grapefruit. the sky in the early afternoon when the fog burns off is milky over calligraphy hills drawn in chinese ink like all the other Septembers. the kickboxing classes are coming along nicely. I've moved up to working on punching bags and the occasional QA manager when I catch him sleeping at his desk. today, the snow angel I've been making, waving my arms and legs on the polished oak floor of my office in an effort to stave off each new crisis, is going to be lonely. the plane is finally leaving for Italy. |
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Dan and I, looking exhausted, at the pre-IPO company meeting. July 8th, 1999.
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Our engineering space in the old new building. My office was the last one on the bottom. The green, yellow, red lights on the arm of the umbrella in the foreground showed the server state.
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After gym class.
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