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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
The job is in the bag -- or is it?

Submitted: March 16, 2017

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Submitted: March 16, 2017





Never in my wildest dreams did I think things could go so well. You love my ideas, my concepts, my originality. I can see the thoughts as they go through your head -- ‘This could be just the person we’ve been waiting for.’


Others have been in here before me, I have watched them enter and leave this room. All of them looked so nervous before entering, so devastated on leaving. And there are plenty more to follow me, unless you dismiss them, save yourself some time. None of them will be able to match me in the originality stakes. I know it and, from the rapt look on your face, I am guessing that you know it too.


But something happens. You change instantly from being enthusiastic, to bored, to down-right impatient. It is almost as though you can’t wait to get rid of me. Was it something I said?


I was so sure, so certain, that the job was going to be mine. I could see my desk in your ultra-modern office. I could hear your congratulations on all my ideas....


But now I hear, ‘We’ll let you know.” And I walk out of your office, whiplashed!

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