A short story
You feel the air on your face as you’re rushing to work. It’s your first day and of course you’re running late.
You land at the entrance of the large, nondescript building. It does not have many windows. That might be unsettling for some, but you find it kind of a relief. Still, you hope you don’t get stuck in there for long hours every day. You shiver as you remember your previous job.
As you approach the door, the RFID scanner beeps. A green light turns on and the door automatically slides open for you. “Whoa, fancy.”
The ceilings inside are so high. The lighting is better than you expected — at least they’re not using those obnoxious fluorescent lights. You line up behind a few other tall employees at the metal detector, but a moment later you’re ushe…
A short story
You feel the air on your face as you’re rushing to work. It’s your first day and of course you’re running late.
You land at the entrance of the large, nondescript building. It does not have many windows. That might be unsettling for some, but you find it kind of a relief. Still, you hope you don’t get stuck in there for long hours every day. You shiver as you remember your previous job.
As you approach the door, the RFID scanner beeps. A green light turns on and the door automatically slides open for you. “Whoa, fancy.”
The ceilings inside are so high. The lighting is better than you expected — at least they’re not using those obnoxious fluorescent lights. You line up behind a few other tall employees at the metal detector, but a moment later you’re ushered around it by one of the agents. “Robin? You don’t need to go through the metal detector. You’re late, by the way. Not a great look on the first day.”
You’re led down the hallway until you finally see a door more your size. You slip in quietly and settle in as the presenter continues, “…your spy work will be keeping the country safe. Welcome to the National Security Agency, Avian Division.”
This is my entry for the September IndieWeb blog carnival, Second Person Birds.