Stillness

Stillness

“Hobby: stillness.”

The interviewer’s finger stops on that line.

“What is this?” “Not moving.”

The man remains seated. No movement in his back. No tension in his shoulders. No visible breath.

Only his gaze. Resting on the interviewer’s throat.

“How long?” “I don’t know.”

…

Paper shifts softly.

“Any examples?” “A bird came.”

He does not continue.

“…and?” “I was rejected.”

“Why?”

“There was warmth.”

The interviewer swallows hard. A small sound escapes his throat.

The man does not blink.

The interviewer lifts the résumé. A neat history reflects the light.

Without folding it, he slides it into the bin.

No sound.

The man is already still.

The interviewer clears his throat once.

Dry.

He drinks water. It passes.

Then returns the glass to the same position.

He clears his throat again.

The sound is thinner.

He looks down at the next document.

After a while, he raises his face.

The same position. The same warmth.

The interviewer’s throat moves again.

The man does not move.

The gaze remains there.

The interviewer clears his throat.

This time, a slight delay before the sound.

It comes anyway.

He clears his throat again.

The same delay.

He lowers his eyes to the documents.

A line of text shifts slightly.

He presses it flat. Aligned again.

He clears his throat. Delayed.

Repeats.

Everything returns to the same position.

The interviewer continues.

The man does not move.

The gaze remains there.

Stillness (II)

“Hobby: stillness.”

The interviewer’s finger stops on that line.

A shadow passes across the window in the door.

After that, he lowers his eyes to the documents in his hands.

After a while, he raises his face.

The same position. The same face.

The man does not move.

The gaze remains there.

The interviewer keeps looking.

He lowers his eyes to another résumé with the same contents.

The text is aligned.

There is no need to press it flat with his fingers.

The same position. The same face.

The interviewer keeps looking.

Nothing is being seen.