the star tribune

Today I received a message that my application to work at a publishing company has been reviewed.  Tomorrow I have an interview with their office assistant, as to whether I am competent enough to be a part of the company.  Since I was a little girl, and my father would take me through the presses at his newspaper--the star tribune in Caen, I have loved the sound of fresh ink upon paper.  The news. How it travels from door to door, distributed as morning vacines to the general public.  Somehow the power of truth was starring down from the machines as I watched them turn above my five-year-old head, was overwhelming.  I cannot express this feeling here. It is too sacred to be written, or attempted.