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Unemployed

“How’d it go?” he asked me.

Before I was down the street, I had called my husband, stopping to strip off my blazer with my briefcase tucked between my legs. The Friday afternoon sun bore down on me, slowly melting the makeup on my face.

“Really well!” I told him, excited. “…Of course, that probably means I didn’t get the job.”

He let out a mirthless laugh.

“I’m cautiously optimistic,” I said. “It’s so perfect for me. Honestly, it hasn’t even been two weeks since my retrenchment.”

He paused. Only three days before he had been the symbol of strength, telling me to leave the money worries behind and focus on me.

“So tell me all about it,” he finally said.

Monday morning at 8am, I received the call. “How’d you think you went?” the recruiter asked.

I knew from the question I had won the position.

I was right.

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6 thoughts on “Unemployed

  1. I like the description of taking off the blazer with the brief case tucked between your knees while the sun was melting your make up. I can easily picture the scene from your description. And I’m glad to see the happy ending.

    Like

  2. Also, you didn’t indicate you wanted concrit but I’ll give you a little one anyway. The “I was right.” was not necessary. I’d end with the previous sentence. Also, there needs to be a small transition between “tell me about it” and Monday morning. It could be as simple as he said tell me about it, so I did.

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