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A good story

18 comments

Tell us about your first day at something — your first day of school, first day of work, first day living on your own, first day blogging, first day as a parent, whatever.

I was 18 and my boss decided to send me to report about a meeting at the City Hall. I’m pretty old so the democracy in Spain was pretty young. The meeting was at night. It started at eight PM. I was excited because it was my first day, it was a big assignment and I wanted to impress my boss with a good story.

Too much excitement. When I arrived at the City Hall I already had a beginning of a migraine. The meeting was highly polemic. Violent demonstration in front of the building. The police charging against the demonstrators. Inside heated discussions. People insulting the King. The Mayor suspending the session. A lot of things to report about. We all trapped in the building because of the violence outside. And my migraine going worse and worse.

Finally I decided to go out alone no matter the violence, because the meeting was over and I couldn’t resist any more the pain. It was raining. A storm. The streets empty but for groups of demonstrators screaming here and there and the police going after them. I began to walk weakly as a zombie passing by slowly while people and police where running around me. I don’t know how I arrived to the newsroom my clothes completely wet, water dripping from my hair. Only to say to my boss I had a good story but I was unable to write a word about all what happened because I was dying in pain from my migraine. I had no strength left in me. I almost fainted. A complete disaster. I certainly impressed him but not the way I wanted.

Daily Prompt: First!.
More first posts on the next page:

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Journalist. In my fifties. I've worked for 26 years in a newspaper in Spain. I worked for two years as a stringer and correspondent in the US, and went as a special envoy to other places like the Balkans. Sea lover. Avid reader. Classic Music enthusiast.

18 Comments Join the Conversation

    • It was. I never wrote the story. I was unable to work. You know when you can’t even see properly? I only could tell my boss what happened. He wrote a little piece and he sent me home.

      Reply

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