Writing prompts this week courtesy of Katie Ward’s Girl Reading.
Nancy remembered crossing the road to the newsagent.
She was certain she remembered coming away with the local paper, and reading the ad, which was why she was here. Nancy was desperately in need of a job and the ad had brought her to this address in a wooden-framed building in the middle of the High St.
The ad hadn’t specified the nature of the business or details of the role, asking only for an intelligent, hard-working person with good writing skills.
Nancy expected to find a queue of applicants when she arrived at 9 am this Monday morning. No one. Not a soul. Perhaps they hadn’t found it, or Nancy was at the wrong place. There was no sign indicating a company was housed here. She bit her lip, anxious, cast up and down the street. No queues elsewhere.
But on the dot of the hour, a young woman with a neat blonde pageboy, clear skin and shadowed eye makeup unlocked the door from the inside.
‘I’m here about the job.’ Nancy waved the folded newspaper.
‘Of course you are.’ The woman – hardly more than a girl – appraised Nancy’s slim form.
Nancy was glad to realise she had dressed herself interviewee style, in a black pencil skirt, pale pink shirt and a grey jacket. She had polished her black pumps and carefully pulled on her last pair of ladderless tights. A touch of makeup.
The woman gave a smile which didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Better get started then,’ she said and led Nancy into a cramped hall, up three flights of narrow uncarpeted stairs and into a tiny windowless office. She gestured at a desk piled high with beige folders. ‘Off you go then, see what you can make of this lot.’
Nancy frowned. ‘Aren’t you going to interview me?’
‘Interview you? Did you see other applicants down there?’ The smile this time was a little warmer, although not exactly embracing. ‘Off you go.’ And she walked out, closing the door behind her with a firm click.
Nancy held her breath, feeling she wouldn’t be surprised if the door had been locked. The whole set up made her uneasy. She thought about sneaking away. She thought about the money. She turned to the desk.
The folders bulged with unanswered letters. They went back months, years. Nancy sat on the uncomfortable chair and opened the top folder, pulled out the top letter.
Dear Nancy, the letter said. Welcome to Devil Inc and your hereafter life. Have a good eternity.
Follow the daily writing prompt on Facebook.
Find Cheryl’s flash fiction and short stories, including audio versions of some, here!
Remind to never go for another job??
Me neither!