I Pointed a Fan at High Rise Field to Give It a Taste of Its Own Medicine

Alright High Rise Field, listen up buddy because I’ve had enough. I can’t deal with you anymore. Sure, Winnie the Pooh may have his enjoyed his blustery day in the hundred-acre wood but me? Not so much dude. 

Next time you’re trying to walk to class holding a delicate poster or project, I’ll be there to bend and blow away your dreams. You try explaining to your professor that you couldn’t stand up to a nonstop micro Noreaster right outside my door. 

My fan might be small, but my wind-fueled hatred towards you and everything you stand for is immense. One more gust out of you and I’m pulling out a windmill next time.