you open your resume in microsoft word. your qualifications have been replaced with the words “NEVER ENOUGH.” the cursor winks.
the website asks you to fill in your basic information. the website asks you for your resume and cover letter. the website asks you to answer additional questions. the website asks you to fill out an applicant questionnaire. the website asks you to sacrifice your family. you click “submit” with bloody hands.
everyone is hiring. no one is hiring. the signs disappear when you look at them too closely, but you can see them in distant shop windows. only a few blocks more and you will be safe.
you attend a job fair hiring individuals in your field and are offered several jobs on the spot. your dream-self accepts the position and shakes the manager’s hand as you awaken in your bed. there is still a hand in yours.
“are you a student?” yes. “are you between the ages of 18-24?” yes. “are you human?” you were. you don’t know now.
the hiring manager has listed their contact information. phone number: blank. email: blank. sacrifice: three rabbits. you stop by the pet store on your way home.
a cacophony of voices scream wordlessly into the void. these are your cover letters. these are your only hope.
you are waiting for your interview. you watch as other applicants go into the office. none of them come out.
every hampton inn seems the same. every hampton inn is the same. you forget your bag in your room in cleveland and retrieve it in georgia. you don’t remember packing a severed head.
please proceed to the gate of the damned. proceed to the gate of the damned to board flight 7734. flight 7734 is now boarding. this is your last call for boarding on flight 7734. this is your last chance.
you are staying in a cottage in key west. there are large dark shapes in the water. “it’s just the manatees,” the locals tell you. screams come from the water’s edge. “it’s just the manatees.” the water is red. “it’s just the manatees.”
you have never seen a manatee. you are thankful.
you visited toronto once. you stood on the glass floor in the cn tower, 1,122 ft above the ground. (they told you not to look down. you should have listened.)
disneyland is the happiest place on earth. you have never smiled this much in your life. you have never had this many teeth.
turn left in three kilometres. turn right in three kilometres. the road will cease to exist in three kilometres.
recalculating. recalculating. recalculating.
your best friend used to live in vancouver. vancouver still lives in them.
you visit the museum of modern art. the paintings are screaming. the walls are screaming. the patrons are screaming. black ichor runs out of the frames. you turn to the museum staff for help, but they are screaming too. the ichor is up to your neck.
new york city is the best city you have ever visited. you heart nyc. you heart nyc. you heart nyc.
you have seen the sphinx. the sphinx has seen you. it remembers.
there is sand in a bottle in your room from the valley of the kings. no matter where you look, it is in the corner of your eye. you can hear the pharaohs talking in the night. soon we will be free.
years later, you are going through your travel journals. you find your entry for detroit: don’t walk on woodward. don’t walk on woodward. don’t walk on woodward. don’t walk on woodward.
you think you may have walked on woodward. you think you may never have been to detroit. (the ink smudges beneath your fingers. there is blood on the corner of the page.)
