Stifling

Stifling a Yawn

Sometimes I wish I was a flower so I can stifle a yawn without looking like I am having a stroke.

She looked extremely incorrect, mostly unhealthy. If anything, she looked horrific. She had the right-before-you-die-face. But yawning during a job interview was worse. Sharona Solommi was way over qualified and the wages were half of her usual earnings, but she needed this job.

Mr. Bosley Howell leaned over the desk and asked with rehearsed concern, “Are you okay, Ms. Solommi?”


Sharona shook it off, her gold hoop within a hoop earrings jingled. “I’m sorry, I am just under a lot of stress.” She turned to her side to finish her gaping yawn.

Bosley nodded as he jotted something down on a yellow ledger. “So as I was saying, White Castle only hires the best, because in order to be the best…” He droned on and on.

Sharona’s face turned bright red, and a bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. She silently cursed herself for eating a can of beans for breakfast.

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