Writing Prompt No. 28
Megan picks at the nail varnish she applied just this morning.
Interviews. She hates staff vacancies. The good ones leave after just a few months to travel, for college, another more permanent job and the merry-go-round begins again.
Do I want someone with experience or not? Is some better than nothing? More training. Again.
Her thoughts trail off as she flips open her laptop and gazes at the screen.
Calendar. Appointments. First one - 10 am. Gillian Anderson. Really? The actor? Meghan smiles. How funny to have the same name.
She looks up to the TV screen playing in the corner. Some golf tournament. She knows she’s supposed to know which one. Who’s playing. She picks again at her fingernails. Sometimes she likes to dip her fingertip into the hot melted wax that drips down the candles that are always lit and sit in the middle of every table. The pain is hot, searing but only for a moment. Once the wax has cooled a little, she presses her thumb and forefinger together creating a fingerprint on each side of the piece of wax.
“Hi,” says a voice, “Meghan? Sorry I’m a bit late.”
Meghan is pulled out from her reverie by the interruption. Standing in front of her is someone familiar. It is. It’s Gillian Anderson.
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