(special thanx and blame to kelster for inspiring me to write again.     kel:  a wordsmith is a singer to a deaf man.   keep up the music of your words!)

In a last minute frenzy, The 13th searched through his file cabinet, removed a thin file folder, quickly tore off the tab heading and emptied the contents.    He shoved the job resume into the freshly emptied folder and ran out the door.

The used and worn 15 cent file folder would give him the appearance of professionalism, he thought.  It was to be symbolic of a briefcase, reflective of traveling with importance.   The sad thing was not that he did not own a briefcase, but that the connotation of such impression-making motions actually occurred to him.    Worse yet, he knew the effect of carrying his resume in the folder might even work.   Motions and mannerisms all too numerous to count - each reflecting it's own meaning or intent - each symbolic of a social order he no longer understood or respected.

The resume was not the usual rhetoric.   It was to glisten with accomplishments and shine with the intent of proving the beholder measures up to or beyond the needs of the employer.   From the examples he'd seen The 13th felt most people's resumes gleemed like King Arthur's sword, showing victory and accomplishment had prevailed.   The 13th looked down at his resume.   It looked like a bent fork with most of the tines missing...

He had held onto the process too long.   Perhaps employment would not have improved his resume but it would help him forget this application process of summation by paper, social order by imitation, redemption by recitation.   The only actual facts that The 13th's resume revealed was one fact and that was that the facts were lies.

Repeat out loud:   I have all the qualities you are looking for, but I don't have any more qualities than those so I won't be switching jobs.   I will not set any office trashcans on fire.   I never discriminate.   I read the same books you do.    This is my pencil, this is my gun, one is for fighting, the other for fun.  Capable of filing? - yes, I've been filed most of my life.   Is this going to be a timed test?  I love working so much I gave up meals and sleep.  Yes, that is my final answer.

"Today it's all going to be different", The 13th repeated to himself, as he made last minute adjustments in the rear view mirror to his tie .  "This is going to be a good interview.  I can feel it."

As he drove along, The 13th noticed how particularly beautiful the day was.   His senses were heightened by his nervousness.    The sky looked more vibrantly blue.   The birds sang louder.    The air was breezy and warm against his skin.    All that drive, every intersection was not just another street - it was another way to go, a place to turn and change fate again.

What a wild dance life is.    NOW is so alive - but always all these layers of the subterfuge.

In a last minute frenzy, another day begins.   The 13th day and yours.   Otherwise this is just dead writing.   Another document - in a file of documents of endless numbers of files...

Tick-tock.

At last The 13th came to the intersection where he was to turn.   The office building was only minutes up the street.    No turn signals came on.   The car did not even brake.    The 13th was driving.

Never mind the gasoline.   The wheels were turning anyway.