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It was a cold day, the type of day where people run into work to escape the frigid hand of winter, the type of day when dedicated presidential candidates were out marching, rally, and braving the cold through a box 'o Joe from Dunkin Donuts. With the heat blasting at 90, I drove my way through the city on this arctic day, embracing myself for the monotonous work routine. As I pulled around a corner, however, the street lit up with a energetic glow that was just an octave away from being illegal. A deafening roar reverberated in the inside of my Yaris, and I pulled through the flooding streets to see what the commotion was all about. There, standing like a Grecan god upon his cloud in the heavens, stood Barrack. Face beaming and in bundles of clothing he stood, controlling the crowd with his monotone voice and charismatic personality. He spoke with tenacity and clarity, and immediately drew me in, almost causing me to smash into the ice encrusted fire hydrant. From this moment on, I knew that he was the candidate for me.
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