"I very much look forward to hearing from you!" My tone is cheery, optimistic, entirely false, but entirely necessary.
It is essential for me to produce a warm, happy facade, wasn't that what I was always told? To project a version of myself that would make potential employers happy? Perhaps this time those would-be employers would like what they saw in me and decide to take me on.
The cute receptionist gives me a beam of a smile as I head out of the building. I resist the urge to double back and attempt to use her to further my employment chances. Stupid idea really, as much as I'd like to think... hope, it's doubtful she has any pull with those upstairs that will decide my fate. It's the first interview I've had in months and the butterflies that I managed to trap burst free the moment I feel the cold wind on my face. It starts off slowly at first but then builds and builds and builds. Panic grips my mind as I go over the interrogation in my head. What I did wrong, what little things I did right. My breathing quickens as my feet finally start to move. The world becomes a misty, hazy blur as I search desperately for somewhere to catch my breath. An ally adjacent to the building provides sanctuary as I stumble towards the opening, struggling not to collapse in the middle of the road.
My fingers dive into the bag, hunting for the inhaler. Relief swells in my chest as I bring the plastic device to my lips and take a deep breath, trembling digits squeezing the plunger down. I hold the reprieve in my mouth for an eternity before swallowing, a gasp follows as usual while my heart slows down. The world comes into focus again as I realise I've entered far deeper into the ally than suspected. The main street is a fair distance to my left as I pocket the inhaler, not knowing whether or not I might need to access it in a pinch when it happens. There is another surge, but it doesn't come from me, it is a rush of putridness belched towards me, momentarily stunning my movement. The scent overwhelms in its depravity as something heavy, thick and organic plops onto my back.
The momentum carries me forwards until I'm laid out on the damp, unforgiving pavement. This low to the ground, the smell increases in its potency causing my throat to expand as I gag, hand clutching my nose and mouth as I resist the desire to violently throw up.
The thing on my back wriggles pleasantly, if I had to guess, I would say it was amused by my reaction.
Then all normalities of the Universe are switched off as the thing begins to talk to me.
"Oooh sweetie, I can feel the tension in your shoulders... in your back... you've had a rough day, huh? Well don't worry, don't you worry your furry little head about it because I'm going to give you a massage to take all of that stress away from you. Be warned, I'm fairly greedy when it comes to this stuff, so I might keep working on you until there's nothing left." The insanity giggles as I turn my head towards my attacker, only to be met with the grinning features of a plump garbage bag.
The need to vomit prevents me from screaming.

---

This idea came to me a while back, more around the time of Valentine's Day, but I've not gotten the time to bring it to life. Showing a little love for Trisha once again, who seems to be showing love to someone else!

Give it up for  EclairTalon for providing the description story for this piece! He's a wonderful writer, and when he said he'd be interested in making these for peoples' submissions, I couldn't jump fast enough at the chance to work with him.

So here's a personal thank you from me, bro! You did an amazing job on the story, and I couldn't be more thankful for it and for you!

Story ©

Art © me