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Job interviews

She asked about my abilities... Making her smile, I answered proudly.
Then she was intrigued by my actual experience... And I began a detailed description of your lips, your hair, your legs.
Not enough she wanted to know about my passion... Surrounding that skin with my mouth, holding the eyes in my eyes, be lost by the astonishing perfume.
With no hope, she finally asked about my plans... I told her, to have a job, to be a better man and to find her in the horizon promised by her eyes.
I was discarded immediately after there was a mistake in my address...

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Dear JC, It's peculiar, isn't it, how the mind clings to memories, especially those we wish to forget? Some nights, I find myself ensnared in a web of dreams, each thread woven with echoes of you. You, who dominated my thoughts, still reign in the kingdom of my nighttime musings. I remember, with an unsettling clarity, every encounter, every word, and every smirk. The way your laughter would echo down hallways, a haunting melody that played on all my strings. The cold glint in your eyes as you found new ways to assert your dominance, your power, unyielding and absolute. In these dreams, I revisit those days, each detail meticulously preserved in the museum of my mind. The corridors, once mundane, now seem like twisted labyrinths in my dreams, with you as the ever-present Minotaur, both feared and revered. Sometimes, I wonder if you ever think of those days. Do you ever recall the weight of your words and actions? Or have they dissolved into the ether, insignificant and forgotte...
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