Gemotions

He’d arrived early, meticulously reviewing his notes, preparing for any question. Then, she walked in, the way she had in college, and a familiar sense of resistance flared. Her easy smile, the way she made small talk with the receptionist, it all felt like a personal challenge. His lips pressed into a thin line.

The interviewer seemed impressed, and the interview with her was long. He focused on the details of the desk, refusing to make eye contact. He knew he could do the job better than she could. He felt his hands begin to tremble.

He left the interview knowing that the job was likely hers, and the feeling was both a bitter pill and a source of perverse satisfaction.