When my temporary work badge was hung around my neck, I knew I looked like a robber who had just robbed a bank and was on the run.
In the photo, my hair slightly explodes due to static electricity, and there is a fierce look in my eyes that says’ ready to die with fate at any time ‘. The corners of the mouth were tightly pursed, as if just a little relaxation would shatter the teeth.
New here? “The security guard stared at my work badge for three seconds, then silently moved the registration book to his side.
I sighed. This cannot be blamed on the photographer. Ten minutes ago, when I was sitting in the makeshift studio made of black cloth downstairs from the company, the fill light above my head was like a searchlight in the interrogation room, heading straight towards the door. The photographer is a young man wearing a woolen hat. As he fiddled with the camera, he shouted, “Yes! That’s the look! Hold on! Imagine you just missed the last subway train
So I maintained that expression.
When I walked into the office and the receptionist took my employment form, her fingers noticeably paused. She lifted her head and politely smiled, “Welcome to join.” But I swear, her gaze checked back and forth between my badge and my face twice, as if verifying if I was really the person.
At noon, I went to the pantry to make coffee. My colleague from the neighboring group greeted me proactively, saying, “Hi, are you new here? My name is Jack.” He reached out his hand with a friendly smile, but his eyes remained fixed on my work badge on my chest.
Thank you, I’m Lynn. “I held his hand and tried my best to look less dangerous.
Your photo… has a strong sense of storytelling, “Jack pondered his words.
Thank you, “I said expressionlessly,” because I did miss a subway train
At three o’clock in the afternoon, the department head called me into the conference room. I have prepared for the worst – perhaps they have decided to eliminate me as a potential danger during my probation period.
The supervisor closed the door, fell silent for a moment, and then took out an old work badge from the drawer and pushed it in front of me.
In the photo, he is wearing a disheveled head of red hair, with a fierce expression as if roaring.
I took it in 2018, “he said.” I had just moved out that day when the landlord raised the rent again
I looked at that photo, then at my own, and suddenly felt that it wasn’t that bad anymore.
When I walked out of the building after work, the evening breeze just blew over the street corner. I stuffed the “wanted criminal” badge into my coat pocket and touched a mint candy that I had conveniently put in it this morning.
Perhaps everyone seems to be struggling with the world at some point.
But there’s sugar in my pocket, and I still have to work tomorrow.
That’s enough.
