“And I know that’s only a couple of jobs for you to check out this week, but something’s better than nothing, right?” the Job Source woman says brightly.
“Here, let me get all of my worldly possessions out of the way,” Jane says, seeing the people waiting their turn.
“Oh, ha-ha, well I’m sure there’s a certain freedom in starting over from scratch,” the social worker titters.
Jane shoves her spiral notebook firmly into her pack and pins the woman with her two-dollar stare. “I get that the whole homeless thing is uncomfortable for you, but there are some things you should never even try to platitude away,” she says quietly, and hoists her pack up. “There’s very little freedom in my choice to sleep in the hostel I was lucky enough to get for tonight, as opposed to on some sidewalk somewhere.”
The young woman beams nervously, slides her jacket down her arms to hang it over the back of the chair. Caroline’s smile vanishes, her face turning into a study of downward angles. “I’m afraid the interview won’t be necessary after all,” she says, and stalks out of the room.
Becca turns her sympathetic gaze to the fresh-faced hopeful. “Sorry, but it’s your tattoo, Caroline hates tattoos, won’t have them at the office at all, won’t hire anyone with a tattoo, period.”
“Well, who wants to work for a picklepuss like that anyway,” the girl snaps back.
Each week, Ivy at Uncharted hosts the Six Sentence Stories flash fiction linkup and blog hop. This week’s vignette from The Life and Times of Jane Doe is in response to the cue “pickle.” Fun sixes from other writers are at the link. Come join us! It’s fun!
“I’d like to go over a wellness plan with you, get you a consult with our dietitian, a chiropractic check, exercise regime, maybe some regular massage, and a referral for psychotherapy. ”
Becca frowns. “I have crappy insurance that I guarantee isn’t going to cover any of that.”
“Well, it’s difficult for me to help you get well and stay well if you’re not going to take your health seriously.”
“I’m a lot more likely to stay well if I can afford to eat instead of giving all my money to the health care industry,” Becca snaps. “I came in for something to help with the panic attacks so I can function like a semi-normal human being, but here I am fending off a used car salesman.”
Each week, Ivy at Uncharted hosts the Six Sentence Stories flash fiction blog hop. This vignette is from The Life and Times of Jane Doe and is in response to this week’s cue, “well.” Fun Sixes from other writers are here. Join us!
This Six touches on some of my rants toward what I think should be called the health don’t-care industry. Don’t get me wrong; I do think that most people who pursue careers in health care genuinely want to help people, but they are hogtied by a billion-dollar machine with more focus on profit than actually caring about people. More on that later. Maybe. If I can make it cohesive.
Becca is hauled up short, this complete stranger, obviously foreign at that, wanting her to cheer him up, or is he asking her to drive him somewhere?
“I can help you download the Uber app,” she finally manages to get out.
“Over here,” says another woman kindly, pointing toward the alcove with the elevators. Becca mentally slaps herself.
Every week Ivy at Uncharted hosts the Six Sentence Stories flash fiction blog hop. This week’s cue was “lift.” This Six is a vignette from The Life and Times of Jane Doe. Fun Sixes from other writers are at the link. Join us, hop around!