I’ve been sitting at this quaint, sheltered café going over my notes for about 20 minutes now. It makes sense that the worm is running late. My leg span is wider and therefore I have a much faster stride. The worm finally arrives, disheveled and slightly anxious. Wiggly? Sure. But what worm isn’t? Worm, whose full name is Random Worm I Found On The Street, orders a quad shot espresso and a cheddar scone. I politely decline when it offers me a sip. The coffee here is pretty bad but the worm drinks it black, probably because the taste of dirt is comforting. I don’t know much about this worm seeing as I found it 30 minutes prior to this interview. However, I can already gather a sense of its character. This worm has never stooped so low or gotten so desperate as to run with the parasitic company of tapeworms.
What’s so great about dirt?
But the silence is deafening. The worm makes a good point. The soil is always more fertile on the other side.
Do you all like apples and reading?
This time it’s my fault for asking such a stereotyped question. I immediately feel regret and shame.
When you split in half do you hang out with your other half or do you part ways?
The worm moves slightly closer to the scone.
That’s an interesting point. When we leave behind our past selves we often try to distance ourselves and move away, rather than accepting it as what led to growth in the first place.
Are middle names common amongst worms?
Possibly another sensitive topic. I proceed more cautiously for the next question.
Birds. You ever met one you liked?
The worm makes contact with the scone.
Do you sometimes think you are a snake?
Absence of a no is a resounding yes. There is a lot to unpack there but I’ll leave that to another time when the worm feels more comfortable.
How would you feel if I spelled it wormb?
The worm disappears into the scone leaving behind a small hole. The worm does not reappear for the remainder of the interview. This is a first in my interviewing career.
What is one fashion trend you would like to bring back?
Silence, but from the inside of the scone.
I would also like to bring back leg warmers.
One final question. Do you have any projects coming up that you want to plug?
A waitress comes to collect our dishes and by the time I remember that the worm is still inside the scone it’s too late. If it lands in the compost it should be fine. I’ll hold the door open for someone today to balance things out just in case.
This is so silly. Nice work.
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