The Interview

“Do you have any references?”

Her gaze was piercing over the tops of her horn-rimmed half-moon glasses. Why did all interviewers have to look like a cross between an unimpressed secretary and a particularly nasty librarian? He’d always hated librarians.

“N-no.” He quickly amended, “Nothing I can get at least. Sorry, Miss-rs?” She didn’t correct him.

“So, no experience?” He felt his face flush. She clicked the top of her pen before casually writing something down. He winced.

“No, well, I did have this one place-” He trailed off.

She blinked blandly, “And?” He tried to sink further into his seat. He knew this would come up, it always did.

“And, well” He rubbed his neck. How he hated having to tell this story, “Well, it was—it was Atlantis.”

Her eyebrow twitched upward in a tick of surprise. It was the most trace of emotion he’d seen all interview.

“So. You’re applying for the title of chief residing god of water when your only other experience is the one city that fell into the ocean?”

“Well- yeah” He mumbled bashfully, “I’ve always wanted to be in charge of water, my mother was a distant cousin of Pieces, you know. There was always so much pressure, ” He choked a bit, blushing more if that were possible, “er- no pun intended”

She wasn’t amused.

“And, well, I could settle for just rivers. And lakes. More manageable anyway”

She blinked and jotted something else down. He resisted the urge to sneak a peek; he knew that that would earn him a sharp slap on the wrists.

“We already have quite a few lesser gods lined up for those positions”

He waited, but she felt no need to elaborate, apparently.

His hands fisted in his tunic under the desk and he strained to keep the now painful looking smile from slipping, “I- I see”

She dropped her gaze to her clipboard, “Good marks in sacrifice protocol, blessing crops, and excellent marks in godly fury—” he visually relaxed, only to tense up again a second later as she looked back to him.

“I see you’ve interned at quite a few places already as well. Quite an extensive list” He knew it was a compliment but she made it sound like he’d done something wrong.

He subtly crossed his finger as she flipped through the pages of his resume.

‘Please don’t see it, please don’t see it’

Her hands stopped on the fourth page and her eyebrow twitched upward again. He attempted to steel himself for what he knew was sure to come.

“I see here you interned briefly in- Pompeii?”

He couldn’t stop his wince, “y— yeah. Very briefly. I was there for barely a month”

“A month. I see. But what tragic timing, hm?”

It took him a minute to recognize that, while it would be if said by anyone else, it wasn’t meant as a joke.

“Yes. Quite tragic. The timing. And the whole thing—I suppose.”

His eyes tracked the progress of her slowly rising eyebrow.

“You suppose? I see” She made a note on her clipboard, “and where do you see yourself, and this city, in eighty years?”

She was back to the basic issue questions. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“W—well, not to be presumptuous, but I hear Persephone has a minor feud with her mother and might stay longer with her beau than usual, so I was thinking, maybe, installing a hot spring or a sulfur bath, then ‘enlightening’ someone to ‘discover’ it and basing the economy off of various exotic baths and steamed dishes.”

“You see yourself relying on tourists?”

“Well, I mean, yeah. That’s modern, right? I want to keep up with the changing times, my friend—acquaintance stationed up north mentioned a new trade thought coming this way and I thought—“

She stood up suddenly, the light reflecting off her glasses, “Thank you, Mister Aquarinalissus, We’ll keep in touch”

His heart sank to his boots. He’d heard that before and surprise, they never call.

“Please send in the next applicant, if you would”

He got up, slumping.

‘Way to rub salt in the wound, lady’

He walked out the door to the waiting room, glancing up at the others waiting.

“Whoevers next can go in”

A bright, bubbly nymph bounced up and sashayed over to the door. He got a whiff of honey as she passed and a couple stray bubbled popped on his jacket.

‘Vapid bitch’

He knew he was being petty but he couldn’t help it. It was probably true anyway.

He left the office and watched as the door behind him faded back to looking like just another tree.