Interview

As I stood there waiting for my interview, thoughts came to mind; random thoughts that sparked fires of paranoia and delusion. The room was devoid of any furniture, aside from an old desk and a chair. Though the room lacked windows, the air was cool and electric. In a flash, something out of nowhere startled me – it led me towards that desk and that chair. I sat down slowly, with my head down, unsure of what would happen next. Upon lifting my eyes a person sat in front of me, looking at me intently; gazing into my soul. He did not speak, he did not budge; he simply looked at me, intently.

In amazement, the first words came out of my mouth. “What should I do?” “Where do I go from here?” The questions kept bubbling up, to the surface. Questions about myself, about my future, about life.

No answers. Simply that gaze, fixed and unequivocally familiar.

As time ticked, the questions subsided, and I focused my attention on this person in front of me. Familiar yet strange. Silent. Unyielding.

Anger. Perhaps a result of frustration, of his unresponsive nature. I struck him. I lunged at him with force, crashing through the mirror. In an instant, I knew. All along it had been me on the other side of the desk. My own reflection. Questions unanswered. Responses that shattered through the air in a million little pieces. The interview that never was, concluded with cuts on my face and arms. A reminder perhaps, that the truth can be as painful and severe as the silence of a windowless room.