I walked through the door marked “Screen” in black biro on a hastily affixed scrap of paper.
I worried my thumb nail on what my fate might be.
I sat in the waiting chair beside the gloomy looking nurse.
She barely spoke to me as she stabbed my arm in search of a blood sample.
She handed the vial to the sombre white coated male whose name tag was too small to read.
He grunted as he examined the sample in the grey box.
Not a word spoken but the left door was pointed out to me.
The left door that had “floored” written in black biro on a second scrap of paper.
I stopped for a moment and thought.
“Floored” Oh it’s a spelling error. The screen test had found me “flawed”.
How ironic to be judged flawed by a minion in a system who could not even spell correctly.