The floss digs in between your molars and jabs deep into your gums. You struggle trying to pull it out. “I can’t remember the last time I did this,” you say to yourself. You spit, making a crimson line that beads down bowl of the sink. You endure the mint flavor being wrung in and out, into deep cracks you didn’t know existed. As you finish, you grit your teeth in the mirror. There is a slight red spot right in between your two front teeth. You run your tongue across the spot and hope that it will go unnoticed.
You brush and remember to go over your tongue more than usual. You rinse and look up at the mirror to see a tiny black whisker growing out of your neck. You grab the tweezers from your left, and guide the pincers to it. The tweezers click a couple of times awkwardly before you can grasp it and yank it out. Continue reading “The Interview”