Rejection

   Jean grabbed her purse and the bag where she kept her laptop. She walked very fast but tried not to look angry, disappointed or anything else. She just wanted to leave that place as fast as she could. It was very uncomfortable to stay there after she had been so insulted. As she arrived to the elevator, the door closed as someone was going down just before her. She whispered a course word, frustrated that she had to wait like an idiot in order to leave a please she definitely didn’t wanted to stay in or return ever again. She felt too humiliated.

 Out of nowhere, one of the guys that had been there during her interview walked up to her. He told her that they had been looking for her. A tiny shimmer of light appeared in her heart only to be crushed moments later when she realized the man had come to find her because she had left her pen in the table. What was even more annoying, was that he started talking about the results of the interview and telling her, once again, about all the flaws she had as a writer and so on. She wanted the Earth to swallow her, as his voice was very loud and everyone around seemed to be listening.

 She had to close her eyes and just try to relax by breathing slowly, feeling the air through her body. Ignoring the man was not easy but she could at least think of something else as he talked and talked and talked. The lady that managed the reception on that floor looked at them with surprise and obvious disgust. When Jean opened her eyes, the lady looked at her straight in the eye and shook her head, then looking at the guy. Jean only smiled, thankful that at least one person realized in what an uncomfortable situation she was.

 Finally, the elevator opened up and she stepped in without even acknowledging the man. For a moment, it seemed as though he was going to follow her into the elevator but fortunately he didn’t. He was even able to say anything else to Jean as she pressed hard the button that made the elevator close faster. She then pressed the number for the ground floor and started breathing normally again. She felt seriously awful and couldn’t believe she had to go home now in a bus that would take at least forty-five minutes. She didn’t felt good at all.

 Luckily, the bus didn’t take long to pass and she was able to find a free seat next to the window. She really wasn’t feeling ok and even though she was going to fall asleep, her brain wouldn’t let her. Not only because it may not be the best idea to fall asleep on a bus, but also because she had their words in her head. She could hear them once and again, trashing every single part of the work that she had done for them. Saying that they destroyed her isn’t enough to describe what went on in that conference room. A few tears rolled down her face.

 She had to clean herself with her hand because she had no tissues or anything like that. But it was clear to her that she had no intention to be the crazy woman in the bus that cries “for no reason”. So she tried to clean her tears off and attempted to think about something else. For example, the fact that she had left her family cat by herself. It wasn’t something that she did for the first time but it was something to think about. The cat was obviously ok but she had to create a problem in her mind in order to be able to resist the urge to cry.

 The bus took less time to her stop than it usually did. She hadn’t realized but she had left that office so early that there wasn’t even the normal traffic jam of peak time out in the streets. When she came down of the bus, she checked she had everything with her, including the pen she had forgotten in her pocket. Walking home took only five minutes. Her house had a cute garden that was brimming with light and color as she entered. It was as if nature was trying to cheer her up.

 And it did make her smile at least. When she entered the house, she called for her parents. Fortunately, no one answered back. They were normally there but she didn’t care where and why they had left, she only wanted to go to her run and be able to fall asleep and nap for while, all afternoon was possible. She dropped her purse and laptop bag on the ground and took off her shoes before lying down in bed. She faced upwards, towards the ceiling and, again, she could her all the criticism and the things all those men had said.

 She began to cry again but, this time, Jean didn’t clean her face or attempted to appear tougher than she looked. She didn’t need to do that, as that was her bedroom, her place in the world. There, she could do whatever she wanted and in that moment she wanted feel miserable for her. The words those men had said had been like daggers and they had stabbed her with them once and again and again. It was almost as if they had enjoyed themselves by doing so. To her, it was a very sick thing to do but she only reflected on that many days later.

 It had been really unnecessary to tell her all those things. They didn’t have to sink every single fiber of her soul by saying a lot of things that, even if part of the truth, weren’t as important in real life as they might have portrayed them. They essentially told her she had no idea how to write, that she couldn’t put three words together and that she made no sense whatsoever in what she had written for them. It was an essay about internal practices in very big companies.

 Jean had no idea of that. She had not been to business school or anything like it. She was just a normal girl trying to make her way into the world. She had thought that her English level was good enough for them but apparently it wasn’t. And of course it wasn’t because they had told her that she didn’t need to correct her essay for them and she didn’t. They lied to her because she would always do corrections but they had assured her they weren’t necessary. Besides, she had no idea of any business practices. She had a degree in creative writing, for God’s sakes!

 They had also told her that her way of portraying the business world was not very professional. And when she attempted to explain that she had no experience in the actual business world, as she had told the woman she had applied for the job too, they wouldn’t let her speak. They would only raise her voice and just keep talking. The guy that gave back her pen had been particularly nasty when saying that she shouldn’t have told them that she was actually good in English. At that moment she felt so enraged, she stood up and decided to leave.

After all, three men in one small conference room were attacking her. And it was all because of one miserable test they had set up in order to chose the perfect person for the freelance job they were looking for. They weren’t even going to take her into the company; they only wanted to see if she was available to do some texts for them once in a while. And, later that week, Jean realized the pay for one piece of writing was extremely mediocre compared to what people with no big company attached to them could pay her.

 It wasn’t the fact that they hadn’t hired her but the fact that they had been deceitful in a way and that they had been so rude in explaining to her why she hadn’t been selected. After all, it made no sense that they had invited her to their offices only to insult her. It would have been better to receive an email with two phrases: one thanking her for applying and the other rejecting her application. It would be more direct and less surrounded with bullshit. She realized those guys only wanted to feel superior somehow and they had found their guinea pig in her.

 Jean fell asleep as she was thinking all of this. She woke up to the voice of her mom telling her it was dinnertime. When her parents asked how it had all went down, she told her everything that had happened and that she was planning to move along. It was hard for her to be her age, living with her parents and she did wanted to earn some money for herself but she wasn’t going to stop looking for a perfect fit to her talents. That company wasn’t the only one in the world and she was certain that, sooner or later, someone would be interested in what she could do.

Awards

   He sipped a bit of the coffee and burned his tongue right away. It was too hot and he was in a hurry, so nothing different could have happened. He decided to put at least half the pot he had made in a thermos and just take that in the car. It was pitch black outside and the van would pick him up in any minute.

Of course he hadn’t had any sleep at all. He usually went to sleep very late and he had in the auditorium at five in the morning, with didn’t really gave him much time to do anything. He decided to not even try to sleep and shower and get ready at around two of the morning, se he could have breakfast before they came to pick him up at 3:30 AM.

 But as things that shouldn’t happen always find a way of becoming truth, he dozed off for a while and he lost the time to have a proper breakfast, which resulted in him burning his tongue and running around his house like an idiot. The van arrived only minutes afterwards so he just took his thermos with him and went as fast as he could, although the elevator apparently had a problem with that, as it felt it took double the time to get to the ground floor.

  There he finally met the man that drove the van, who he apologized to. The man didn’t even acknowledge that an explained him that he needed to check him for envelops, microphones, cameras and so on. The poor guy that hadn’t slept more than half an hour wasn’t sure he was getting what the driver of the van was telling him. The man attempted to touch him but he just pulled apart in fear.

       - “It’s for security, Mr. Thomas!”

 Somehow, that enunciation woke him up a bit and he decided to stay very still as the man checked his pockets (jacket and pants), felt everything he had to feel and even asked him to take off his shoes. He complied to everything as if he was in a boot camp which made them loose about fifteen minutes of their time, that he had thought to be precious. After checking the shoes and even the socks, the man finally told him to follow him to the van.

 Mr. Thomas sat down in the far back, not wanting to talk at all with that man during the ride. After all, it was a half-hour drive from his house to the headquarters of the services firm where they had to pick up a suitcase that had all the information they needed by five in the morning in the theatre. He knew he wasn’t the only idiot waking up at such time of the day and that made him feel a little better about himself. So when the van started moving towards the highway, he was a bit more awake than before.

 As they travelled through an unusual cold morning in Los Angeles, light still absent, he decided to finally have some coffee and just enjoy the ride. He decided to pay attention to the world and the world revealed itself to him in a way he had never seen. After all, it wasn’t everyday that he woke up at this time of day, when every single person that was up seemed to have a certain thing about them.

 The driver was the first in that list. He was a very tall guy, the kind that when they bend over it looks ridiculous. When he was checking Mr. Thomas’s shoes, his body contorted in the most funny shape ever and the owner of those shoes almost laughs, partially because of the time of day but also because tall people always looked funny in the simplest positions. Besides his height, he had this weird thing where the mustache was the same color of his hair, which was blonde, but the eyebrows were very black. Somehow it looked odd, as if he was a big Mr. Potato Head.

 The next person that drew his attention was a lady on the street. They stopped in a red light for a while and he saw this elderly woman, body curved as it was humanly possible, walking her Chihuahua in the middle of the night. What was curious about the woman was not at all the fact that she was walking her dog at that time, which he knew to be very common among dog owners, but that she was wearing the strangest combination of clothing. She had a large overcoat, the color of flamingos. Under that she had a flowery shirt that looked too big for her, kaki shorts and fluffy sleepers with a baseball cap crowning her head.

 She was a sight to behold and that was only for a couple of minutes, before they got in the highway and he only saw some cars and a couple of dead pigeons that had been killed by crazed drivers or just by people that had not realized that birds wee not the brightest creatures in the universe. When he saw those bodies, he couldn’t stop thinking about the poor man or woman that had to clean that up from the asphalt of the highway as his or her job. That thought made him realize he was a very lucky guy with a very good job and that he had no right to complain about something as silly as waking up early in the morning.

 It seemed that in no time they were in downtown Los Angeles, stopping in almost every stupid traffic light. He saw his watch nervously, telling himself that if he was a couple of minutes late it wouldn’t really be that big of problem as the show began a little later than five. But then he remembered he had to pass the information to the people than made a nice little presentation video for people at home to get what the presenters were saying. He worried again when he thought of this.

 It was right then when they finally got to the skyscraper where the services offices were located. He got out of the van and remembered what they had told him: he had to go the information desk and ask for Tamara Parks. Then, they would direct him to the top floor where Ms. Parks would give him the briefcase with all the information they needed in the theater.

 So he did just that. The man at the information desk was a security guard; obviously the person that tactually worked there had not yet arrived. The man gave him a badge and told him to take the middle elevator and press the button to the top floor. Said elevator took forever to arrive and also to get up there. It seemed to be going for ages. He checked his watch several times and repeated to himself that they were on time and that the theater was not that far away. He realized the elevator had a mirror so he decided to check his suit for stains or anything unusual, his teeth and his face. It was right then the elevator decided to stop and open.

 This startled him but no one was outside waiting. He had to walk to an office and wait there in a waiting room for the woman. But he didn’t have to wait at all. She was there and greeted him with a big smile that he would be unable to do at that time of day. She asked him to follow her to a conference room and there he found the briefcase but also two big guys, with black glasses and earpieces. Somehow, it was funny to see them there, as if they were thing to put in a room like plants or statues.

 Ms. Parks explained they were the security team assigned to join him to the theater to ensure all the information got there safely and that only the people that had to see it saw it and no one else. They checked everything in five minutes and then they were good to go. He left the smiling Parks in the top floor but was joined in the elevator by the two big guys who didn’t smile at all.

 He was a bit relieved when he got to the van and this time the driver decided to speed up as he realized time was running short. The theater was not far away and, with the presence of the two big guys, Mr. Thomas had no opportunity to see the outside world, mainly because he was trapped between those two mountains that were apparently people.

 Exactly at five in the morning, they pulled off outside the theater and there was already someone waiting, telling her they were a bit late which was a lie. Apparently people there were very stressed. The four of them walked, almost jogged, to the theater and there straight to the master room when a lonely woman was waiting for them behind a computer. It was Mr. Thomas job to only look at her work like crazy for the next twenty minutes, helped only by another man.

 When the presentation was done, Thomas’s work was done. The big men would guard the briefcase and   he could just sit in the back of the theater and hear the name of the nominees from there. At that point, he was finally awake and also very excited because he knew he was part of something that meant a lot to many people and that was, somehow, the pinnacle of their efforts and the most coveted prize in the cinema industry.

The ring

   Linda Fox loved to imagine what had happened in the places she cleaned up in the mornings. She usually did ball rooms and other big places but sometimes even big country houses or big rooms in huge apartments. She had learned pretty soon that some people have too much money and also too much time on their hands. She was never there once the music was playing or the guests were arriving but she could picture everything with only cleaning the places. She had learned through her senses the differences between an expensive wine and a cheap wine and between a good perfume and a bad one. Of course, she was no definitive professional on the matter but she felt she kind of knew the people that had been there by only staying in a room for a while.

 She had stumbled into that job after looking for many months. She had been laid off as a secretary on a big firm and, since then, no one would hire her. Linda knew this was because of her age. Not many companies wanted to hire women over forty and she was really lucky to have found that cleaning job. At least she didn’t have to do it on the street or every single day in a house where they would probably not even look at her. In this job, she was called two or three times a week, never more than that and it would always be to clean up places were the rich and famous went. No frat parties or middle class parties with alcohol all over the floor. No, this people were the elite but the elite had no idea how to clean a place up and that’s when they came in.

 Linda would come in with two other women, also aged over forty. And they would just start to clean up: first they would pick up the garbage from the floor, they would put away tables, cutlery and other things might slow down the mopping of the floors. Depending on the surface, they would clean it again with products that left everything smelling just perfect. Normally, they would spend at least three hours there. The three women were very thorough and checked every corner until the venue was even cleaner than before the party or event had taken place. No one would congratulate or anything after that. Their boss would pay them cash and that was it.

 It wasn’t the best job in the world but Linda knew it was the only job she could have gotten at her age. And even young people had trouble getting work so she had to be grateful. Besides, it paid well to service all those rich people. She never saw one of them but she knew they would pay through the nose just for someone to do something they would never do. When cleaning. Linda always loved to imagine she was one of the guests. Of course none of them would have to pick up the trash or mop the floors but her imagination was not going to limit itself because of that. The other women, she knew, did the same thing. After all, they knew they would never have something like that.

 One day, when cleaning a beautiful room in a country house about an hour away from the city, Linda found something very special. It was a ring and it had fell beneath the floorboards. She could see it there, shining beneath her feet as she picked up several papers and plastic plates. She looked at the other too, who were cleaning other points of the room, and tried to imagine a way to get the ring out. There was a small whole on one of the boards and she supposed the small object had fallen through there. She looked around to see if someone was looking at her and then pulled the small board, which was loose. She saw the beautiful shine of the ring and then took it. She looked at it as she had been hypnotized by it.

 It had a big diamond surrounded by smaller emeralds and rubies. They were all there; none had fallen to the ground when whoever had been wearing it had dropped it. One of the women asked Linda for the mop, and she almost dropped the ring to her surprise. She put it fast in her pants pocket and then behaved as normally as she could. Linda didn’t know why she had done that. She had found several other things in the past and had always given them to her boss in order for him to find its true owners. But this time, she wanted the ring for herself. She didn’t really know why, as he had no real chance to wear that ring anywhere and anyone that had any idea about her would know that she didn’t have the money to buy such a beautiful piece of jewelry.

 When work was over, the company sent a car to take them back to the city and she felt the trip lasted several hours but it was only one. She was the first one to exit the car when they arrived and to leave the place as soon as possible. Her work mates didn’t really think that was strange because she had always been like that, a little too private. They actually thought she was too good to even talk to them, or at least she thought that was the case. And both women had decided that they didn’t care about what she did. After all, they paid them when they all showed up for work and id what they had to do. That was it. They didn’t need more than that.

 Linda almost ran home. Once she was inside, she locked the door and closed her bedroom door behind her. She decided to change clothes first and then she would take the ring from her coat and watch it in all its glory. It was not as beautiful now as it had been before with the beautiful sunlight, but it was obvious the piece had an immense value, at least economically speaking. Linda then wondered who would drop such a beautiful ring to the ground and wouldn’t even mind to pick it up? Had it fallen from the finger of a very distracted or drunk woman? It was kind of fun to imagine all the stories behind the ring, as if it was a big adventure that she could imagining easily.

 She felt asleep wearing the ring and, at any moment, felt the urge to return it to the house where she had been cleaning or to her boss. The next day, she chose to take it to a professional jeweler to ask him how much he thought that ring was worth. He lied by telling him that she had just inherited from a dying aunt. The men checked it with various instruments for some time but finally stated that all the pieces were very high quality: the diamond was very clean and pure, probably African. The rubies and emeralds, although smaller, were also of a very high quality. Even the ring as such was made from very light titanium, which wasn’t used very frequently on rings. Linda left as soon as she knew more and also because she realized the man didn’t believe the story of her old aunt.

 Beside, she told her something she had not seen before. Inside the ring there was an inscription. It was a full name: John William Hammond. The men looked at Linda as if he wanted to know who that person was but she just lied again and said it was her aunt’s husband. Then she took the ring, gave the man some bills and left in haste. She returned home and looked at the inscription closer. It had to be looked in a certain way but there it was. The name of a man in woman’s ring. So maybe this was a ring someone had used to propose marriage. Linda couldn’t believe how romantic her story turned out to be.

 She decided to find out about every detail she could about the owners of the house she had cleaned that day. Apparently the family that owned it also owned several vineyards and other types of crops and plantations around the country. But their most well known product was wine. She also found out that the eldest daughter had recently married to a man that owned half of the biggest retail company in the city. She found a gossip magazine with every picture of the vent. Surprisingly, it had taken place very recently, only a couple of days after she had cleaned up the country house and found the ring. Then, she looked for the name that was inscribed in the ring but that proved to be a bit harder. She had to go through various gossip pages on the Internet to finally find the name.

 Once she did, however, she gasped. John William Hammond was not who she thought it was going to be. Linda was already making him a banker or a renowned tennis player or even a movie actor. But no. John William Hammond was nothing more than junior lawyer in a firm that had helped of the vineyards through a rough time. Apparently, it was his team that had stopped a very large company from securing that particular vineyard. Apparently there was a huge problem with the land. But the man was just a lawyer and they only mentioned him in one article of an economic journal.

 His name was on a ring and then, again, Linda invented a wonderful story about him been an underdog in love with the lady of society. She thought that maybe they had had an affair but she had finally effused him in favor of an even better position and money. She had been the one that had chosen the easier road. Linda slept thinking of them without ever finding out the truth, which was a lot sadder but more real. But sometimes reality is not as important as the realities we can invent with it, even more when things have already happened and no one can change them.

Thoughts by the water

   The beach was almost empty but that did not matter. I stood there for a long time, looking at the ocean and just thinking and thinking about everything: my family, what I was doing there, the chances of meeting someone to fall in love with, job opportunities and so many other things I can’t even remember. After a while, I sat down on one of the many steps of the stairs that lead people from the park to the beach and just sat there for at least an hour. During that time, the climate change from bad to worst and I could see a storm forming over the ocean, not very far. It looked awful but I didn’t care. Or maybe I did but wasn’t afraid, I don’t remember which one it was.

 After a long time there, I decided to walk the few blocks that separated myself from the metro station. And during that time, maybe ten minutes, I kept thinking about all of that again. At some point, after validating my ticket in the station, I found myself being bored out of my mind by my own thoughts. Why was I so melancholic or depressed or whatever it was? It wasn’t unheard of for me to be like that but it was never that deep, that strange either. When the train came, I sat down on a chair by the window and just looked out the window to the darkness outside and the passing stations.

 That weird state almost made me lose my station but I “woke up” just in the right moment to descend the train and almost run up the stairs. By then, I just wanted to get home and to my bed. I walked some more blocks and almost didn’t realize it was already raining and thunders could be heard in the far distance. But somehow, I didn’t really care. Normally, I would have been shaken by the sound of thunder but this time it was as if nothing was happening. The journey in the elevator towards the top floor seemed eternal but when I got to my door I felt kind of a warmth feeling, maybe from finally being in a place I called home, where I could be safe and in peace.

 It was an odd thing to think because I could be safe in many other places but there I was feeling like I just had saved myself from the apocalypse or something like that. I actually felt relieved to get off my coat and walk into my room, where my bed seemed to be waiting for my arrival. I just let my body fall on the bed and I closed my eyes, trying to avoid thinking about anything. I was successful in my attempt to do so because I fell asleep quite fast, something I wasn’t usually able to do at that time of day. I only slept for three hours but it was enough to feel recharged and less pessimistic and emotional.

 It was already night when I sat in the bed and took off my clothes. The general heating system of the building had been lit up and the climate had changed to a more cozy one that at the time of my arrival. I stayed just in briefs for a moment until I realized I lived alone and anyone looking at my windows would be a person freezing in the outside. I actually walked towards the window and almost missed the street below as the rain, and the mist that came with it, had invaded the city, making only things that were incredibly close visible. I caressed my arms and then walked out to the kitchen. MY apartment was small: bedroom, living room with kitchen on a side and a bathroom. But it was more than enough for just me.

 I heated up microwave lasagna I had left and, as it was cooking, I grabbed myself a beer from the refrigerator. I probably gulped down half of the can’s content before I started eating but I guess that was because I was dry from three hours of sleep. I had no TV so I took the lasagna and the beer to my room. There I turned on my laptop and looked for something fun to watch. I smiled and even laughed while eating so my trick to get back on the bright side of life worked, as it often did. I thought of those moments down at the beach, but couldn’t really explain them. I had just stay there to think and nothing more.

 It is true that my life is not the most exciting one in the world but I thinking so much about it was useless and pointless. I had a small job that paid badly and I was trying to look for a better one but for now nothing had come up. Somehow people saw my resume and said “no” because I have no experience. But how could I have any experience if I’ve never even been hired, not from the age of eighteen when I started looking for work. Not my fault in any case but here we are. I had to tell myself that, eventually, something would come up and I could be improving my life in that aspect. I didn’t want to be dependent from my parents forever.

 I love them and I missed them. For a moment there, eating lasagna, drinking beer and watching a silly show online, I was reminded of them again and this time a couple of tears went down my cheeks, one on each side. I really missed them a lot and there where not near, not near at all. They lived across the ocean and we hadn’t been able to talk for a few days because of damage to their Internet network or something. It had been painful because every couple of days I chatted with them put the camera on and tell them about my day and they would tell me about theirs and so one. Maybe that was to blame for how I felt but maybe it was just a part of a bigger thing.

 I finished my lasagna and my beer so I went to the kitchen to throw it all to the garbage bin and to take another beer from the refrigerator. I took two steps away from the kitchen but turned back and took another beer can because I knew I wanted to be at least a little drunk to sleep. After many years of getting to know myself, I realized that when I was drunk I never had awful nightmares, not even nice little dreams filled with hope and joy. I just didn’t have any or didn’t remember. Whatever it was, it was fine with me and hat was what I needed on that rainy day: to stop thinking and just sleep. I opened of the cans and started drinking when I heard a silly music playing. When it stopped, I realized it was my cellphone.

 I looked for it in my pants, which had been lying on the floor, and checked the missed calls list. Shit… To add more fun to the party that was that day, my ex-boyfriend had called, probably because I always forgot about that stupid watch he had once left in my house and now he tormented me with it. When we broke up, I took everything that was his from my apartment and just left it in his doorstep, without even ringing at his door to say “Hi” or anything of the sort. I just wanted to get it over with and move one. But apparently I had missed that stupid watch, which was able to avoid my cleaning by being stuck behind one of my bed’s “legs”. Now I had it but I had no urge to give it to him. If he wanted, and I had already told him this, he had to come for it.

 You would think that a person that you find having sex with someone else would be at least a little bit ashamed of he’s behavior but no, he wasn’t like that. He didn’t care at all about those “little” things and was just obsessed about that ugly watch. I had never been very lucky with men but that time I really missed it by a long shot. He was a handsome guy, true, but that should have alerted me. He was too close to the ideal men, in body at least, and those kind of men had never even been close to me so there was my red flag and I didn’t even care to see it.

 Anyway, I still thought about it. Not about him because I realized I had never really cared about him as a person, nor as a lover to be honest. But we had a good thing going on about how we spent time together and that was something very nice to have. But those six months were over and now I was in my briefs drinking beer and watching cartoons. Of course, I still wanted to find a person to actually care for, someone I could hug and kiss whenever I wanted and for that person to want to do that with me too, someone to comfort me in a day like that one and for me to hug tight whenever he felt weird or sad. But who knows if that will ever come my way.

 I think it’s better not to torture oneself with what could have been. That’s one more of those useless things. I decided to stop think and just drank the third can of beer like a professional, almost without breathing and just gulping it down as if my life depended on it. I turned off all the lights and just looked to the window, where the rain was still falling heavy on the street and all over the city. It was a nice thought to think that many people near me and maybe further away were having a similar moment, just looking out through the window before falling asleep. It was comforting somehow.

 I closed my eyes and, before I fell asleep for another eight hours, I thought of the men I would like to have in my arms, the job I would be proud of, my family and how their hugs felt and a future where nothing mattered, only my true happiness.