Impulsive
Two impulsive things: one letter, one chat. The letter, an answer to a company which asked me after sending a CV. I was too honest. It was my only chance. Rejected. No big deal, but I would have liked to try it.
The chat. Briefly with Karl, the writer. I knew he was going to be there, but I didn’t think to say anything. Now, I have a compromise. I saw him alone and I said to myself, come on. He was kind. Open. A bit shy, but maybe it was because he didn’t understand me or he was being concentrated before acting. Tonight, he was one of the poets in an event. I told him I was reading his novel. I closed an interview. I hope. I didn’t give to him too many explanations, better, I wouldn’t have known to answer any further questions. He gave me his number phone. I repeated him my name. We say goodbye with a handshake. Enough for the moment. I have to prepare well the meeting.
