Turtleneck

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Copyright © 2022 Michael S. Farag

All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

The elevator door opened, revealing an immense floor, silver ground very shiny, like waking up with a flashlight to the eyes, but in a matter of seconds, her eyes adapted to see plainly.

The walls were all made of black glass. Uncomfortably, she got out of the elevator. It bothered her to walk with these hateful high heels, this formal dress was literally suffocating her. She hated the formality of interviews that was why she was broke most of the time.

Out of curiosity, she scanned the place to locate the source of this extreme light, but to her surprise, she didn't find any, the light just existed. It appeared that the only things there were these silver desks aligned to each other horizontally and vertically in a suspiciously precise manner, a black computer was on each desk, and the employees were so lost in their work. Anxious feeling ran through her thoughts, especially when she noticed the odd uniform of the employee there: black trousers, black turtlenecks, which she hated the most, she thought about retreating but remembered her extreme desperate need for money.

She has always daydreamed that it would be perfect if she simply could become the president of the United States instead of being an employee who works hard to achieve wealth for her superiors.

None of the employees paid her any attention as if she were invisible.
None of them had even a coffee cup on his or her desk, the place was so quiet to the point that hearing the clicking of her own high heels made her feel guilty of a crime.

"Excuse me, I am here for the job interview," said Roxanne to the employee on one of the desks, the first one to her right, who totally ignored her.

She then noticed the wireless earphones in his ears, thought to poke his shoulder, but due to his robotic appearance and his face whose features looked as if they were made up of synthetic substances, and his head, which failed to look harmonized with his body or any human body for that matter; she chose not to poke him.

She kept walking forward, searching for any natural human being among these weird employees, all the desks had no evidence of any interactive human, no coffee cups, no remnant of junk food and not even a trashcan. Until she noticed a desk with a plastic cup on it, which gave her the pleasure of finding water in the desert. On this desk was a woman in her thirties.

Roxanne watched her with Joy as she grasped the cup and took a sip from it. One other thing Roxanne noticed was that this woman wasn't wearing a turtle neck, a full black dress but no turtleneck. She was relieved because for a moment she had felt that this company was a front for human trafficking.

"Excuse Me," said Roxanne.

The woman looked back at her, "hey, how can I help you?"

"I am here for an interview, and I don't know where to go, and people here didn't even reply."

"Yes, they are weird here, no talk, no greeting but they pay well. I am Sarah by the way."

"Roxanne. So, where is this interview?"

"Just go over there and the manager will open it to you," said Sarah while pointing at the wall on the other end from the elevator door.

"There?"

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