The Wrong Interview Answer

I was nervous, I knew it. Yet those questions still seemed odd to me. All of them very personal and short. The interviewer kept up a rapid fire pace with them and I just answered quickly. They had started slowly but sped up quite fast and with shorter questions. They didn’t even look up from the display pad in front of them. Then it happened. I was asked my favourite colour. I said red and a loud bing sounded from the speakers in the ceiling. The interviewer stopped, stood up, and exited the room without a word. The lights went out, there was a faint hissing noise and a foul smell in the air suddenly. I was being gassed. Again. I awoke in an alley several blocks away that night with a letter of rejection from their HR department. Damn these corporations and their stupid standards. Red’s a nice colour.

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