The Job Centre

[John Gonzalez]

“Lucian Tailor!” a severe and tired voice called amid scuffs of paperwork, blurred conversations and tapped keyboards. Lucian rose immediately and crossed the carpet in the direction of desk 2, made an about turn, and headed back out of the main entrance of the job centre. Outside he mimed a single puff on an imaginary cigarette, snapped open his phone and spoke almost immediately: “This is going to be harder than I thought.”
“What… signing on?” a tired, though slightly amused voice replied.
“Life.”