Interview (bp coyle)

‘So, how did the interview go?’ Mam asked.

I shook my head. ‘Not good Mam. Not good at all.’

‘Oh, you always say that.’ She patted my shoulder. ‘I’m sure it went fine.’

‘Yes, I always say that and I still haven’t got a job.’ I sighed. ‘This went worse than usual.’

She filled up the kettle and got out some teacups, her answer to every problem.

‘She took one look at my CV and said she thought I was over-qualified for the position. She said she didn’t think I would be happy packing boxes in a warehouse on the night-shift.’

‘And what did you say?’

‘I said she was probably right.’

Mam almost dropped her cup. ‘Son,’ she began ‘you have to try harder.’

‘What’s the point Mam? There no work in this city, this country. I am going to have to move away to have any chance at all.’

‘Now don’t go saying things like that,’ she declared. ‘What would I do here if you were gone? You’re all I have in the world.’

‘I’m sorry Mam but things aren’t getting any better.

She turned around and fussed with the teapot so I wouldn’t see her tears.

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