Eccedentesiast~ someone who fakes a smile when all they want to do is to cry, disappear or die.
*****
Keevah~
I shouldn't be here. Taking pictures of the fog-shrouded river, forcing down the tide of anxiety that threatens to rise up and engulf me. I amble down the cement embankment to where the muddy waters of the thames lapped the bank and raise my camera once more. Even in the dim morning light, my telephoto lens captures every detail of the boats rowing against the ebb tide, from the markings on the shells to the club crest on the rower's kit. It was a mad impulse that brought me here anyhow. My regrets should have stayed in the past where they belonged, with the rest of my mistakes. Back then, my fears had clouded my judgement, skewed my perspective. And no matter how far I'd come, there might always be parts of me that was broken.
"Why are you nervous"? I don't meet Sophie's eye as she discards the third blouse of the morning. Ninety minutes until the job interview, I wouldn't call it that, per say, and I still haven't decided what to wear.
I reach for choice number four,
" I'm not nervous exactly, just... Okay fine, I'm nervous. What if I completely muck it up"?
"What if you do? You can always find another job, you know that as much as I do".
I slide a white silk blouse over my head, noting the wrinkles across the front and slip my black jacket back on.
" it's not that, Sophie, it's just.."
"You're going into the field. Isn't that what this is all about"?
Sophie has always been too perceptive to slip anything by her. Sighing,
" You know how I feel about field work in journalism. How passionate I am about being a reporter even though I'm over qualified. I know it's a great opportunity, but I just can't help but feel worried".
She puts both hands on my shoulders,
"They'll be crazy not to take you. But this ivory blouse? You could as well go with a noose wrapped around your neck".
She bends, rummage through my wardrobe and pulls out a plain green T-shirt,
" here".
The cotton replaced the silk, with the jacket over top.
"Roll up the sleeves so you can see the watch".
" Don't you think I should cover up the tattoos "?
She gasps in mock horror, her eye rise shooting up almost all the way to her hairline.
" When does keevah ever give a damn!"?
A chuckle escapes my lips at that, being friends since birth, she sure knows how to lift up my mood.
"Guess that's what happens when you don't know what the future holds".
" you'll be fine".
I slide my feet into a pair of sneakers, grab my bag, portfolio and head for the he ground level. I find myself muttering some prayers as I open the door to my car and drive off.
"God, please don't let me mess this up. You know how hard I want this to work. Please, just help me get through this with my dignity intact".
Did I just pray? I chuckle realising that not once had I ever asked God to help me get a job. If it wasn't an ambivalence towards the situation, I don't know what is. I needed this. It's an essential step to finally get a job that utilizes both my experience and passion, and put behind me the static lifestyle I dread. When I at last reach my destination, an enormous skyscraper- I'm a full twenty minutes early. I take a moment to gather myself on the pavement outside before pushing through the glass doors into the building.
Acres of marble, glass and brass surrounds me. I don't look around, just make my way steadily through the trickle of suited business people to a bank of lifts, where I climbed on and punched, with a shaky finger, the number for my floor. It seems odd for a journalism company to be housed in one of the premier business buildings in the financial district, but considering the amount of money that flowed through the organization, different cases solved and uncovered, Pulitzer awards each year, perhaps it made sense, right?
The bright and open reception area, however was far less posh than the beauty itself would have led me to believe. An Asian woman with a long hair draped over one shoulder smiled at me, a genuine smile. Sort of refreshing, something rare to see these days, guess she really just enjoys her job.
"May I help you"?
" keevah stone, transfered"?
"Oh, of course miss keevah. If you'll take a seat, you'll be attended to shortly".
I nod and wander back to a comfortable grouping of armchairs occupied by anxious faces, some of which I recognized, okay, just a tad bit. The company had to let go of some employees due to being over staffed, and suffering from bankruptcy, so lucky me, here I am.
" Hello, the name's Stefan".
The surprising soothing deep voice draws me out of the conversation I was having with my clammy palms and jittery insides. We all rise, and I see a man standing right about five feet from us, mid forties, trim with a shaved head, and a polite smile gracing his face.
A series of "hellos and hi's" go round.
"Follow me, it's this way".
He gestures towards a hallway.
We follow Stefan back through the reception area and down a plainly decorated hall to a large office. Behind a gleaming wood desk piles high files with folios and stacks of paperwork sat nobody.
" I'm sorry, Mr. Shaw is to be here soon. In the meantime, take a seat, please, all of you".
Humph, the "boss" is running late. What a perfect example, don't you think?
Minutes later;
"I'm so so sorry, had to rush off somewhere, hope you all haven't been waiting for long"
Instinctively, my eyes rise to a pair of eyes equally gawking at me. of course, just great, just great..
Just then, I notice his lips curve into a downsides smirk, one that promises a whole lot of things I can't seem to decipher.
"Welcome everyone".
His baritone voice bounces off the walls of the room.
Welcome indeed.
Hey guys!
That was it!
What do you think?😫
Stay safe everyone🤗.
YOU ARE READING
AISLE. |ON HOLD|
Romance"I always knew I'd take a bullet for you", I say as pain ebbs through my chest. She crouches beside me, clutching at my shirt. Sobs echo from her as my eyelids grow heavy with weight. "And I always knew you wouldn't take one for me". I whisper and...
