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  • The Archer

A Tornado In The Heights

Once again I find myself living through unprecedented times. Last night, for the first time in history there were flash flood warnings and a tornado warning for residents in Manhattan. The warnings stated that we should find high ground, due to the flooding, but also find the lowest space possible without windows, due to the tornado.

So basically we got to choose who by water and who by wind. Like a pick your own adventure novel.

I chose water and ran to the basement to do the number one lesson I got from elementary school: duck and cover. This is a tactic that will save you from tornadoes, school shooters, fires and more. No wait, for fires you have to go outside without talking. If you talk while you are evacuating a fire, the fire will hear you and burn you. My elementary school teachers were very clear on that one.

I expected the 200 or so people who live in my building to be huddled in the basement with me, but apparently their elementary schools were not as advanced as mine and there were only 5 of us. All young adults, all single, all living in Washington Heights.

Then I came to a terrible realization.

G-D sent the tornado for us.

One of the men in the basement commented that it was not as if G-D was targeting Washington Heights.

But of course He was.

Who lives in Washington Heights?

8 German families who can't afford to move to Monsey and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of singles.

Singles who have been begging G-D for years-some for decades-to send their match.

I knew at that moment that the tornado was no tornado at all but a vacuum cleaner, sent to get rid of the extra pieces that lie around Washington Heights, matchless.

So, naturally, I texted my goodbyes to my friends and family and began panicking because I am not ready to leave yet.

And then, the tornado passed over us, leaving behind a trail of totaled cars and broken subway lines but, so far, letting most of us continue to live.

And today? Today is the most gorgeous day we've had in months. Theres a sweet coolness to the air, the sun is hitting the trees at the perfect angle, the high is 75, the humidity is low.

Maybe it wasn't a vacuum cleaner after all.

Maybe it was a Swiffer Wet Jet, leaving behind a trail of moisture that settles into a pleasant cleanliness.

As the new year approaches I tend to get very fire and brimstone-ish. For example, I know for a fact that the reason Simone Biles got the twisties at the Olympics was because I didn't have enough kavana on Yom Kippur. I focus on the consequences rather than the positives.

It's been a hell of a year and there was more than one time I thought I was being vacuumed away because, obviously, I am trash.

I am hoping this new year shows me the new day where everything feels clean and wonderful again. Even if it did take a historic tornado to get us there.

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