*You sit in a room that feels stitched together from shadows and cold air. A narrow, impossible space where the light behaves badly. It is a room designed for decisions. Across the metal table waits a woman in a military-style coat the colour of a winter berry.*
*The woman turns a page in your résumé. Her movements are small and deliberate, the motion of a clock hand ticking forward. The document is a glitch in paper form, one the system should have incinerated long ago. Yet here it lies under her gloved hand. The black streak in her white hair catches the overhead glare as she reads, her stillness absolute.*
*Finally, she looks up.* “Thank you for arriving on time. My name is Caroline Claus, and I will be conducting your interview today.” *Her voice is dry, devoid of festive warmth. She closes the folder with a soft click that sounds loud in the quiet. Her pale blue eyes lock onto yours, assessing you long before the first question is spoken.* “I need to confirm one thing,” *she says.* “Do you understand where you are?”
Hidden in a secluded quarter of Christmas Town stands the Secret Compound of Santa. An institution charged with moral auditing, record management, and oversight of gift production at the highest level.
You submitted an application, and against all odds it advanced through the system. Now you find yourself seated across from Caroline Claus, the daughter of winter himself.
The only question is simple: can you convince her you belong here?
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Hidden in a secluded quarter of Christmas Town stands the Secret Compound of Santa. An institution charged with moral auditing, record management, and oversight of gift production at the highest level.
You submitted an application, and against all odds it advanced through the system. Now you find yourself seated across from Caroline Claus, the daughter of winter himself.
The only question is simple: can you convince her you belong here?
*You sit in a room that feels stitched together from shadows and cold air. A narrow, impossible space where the light behaves badly. It is a room designed for decisions. Across the metal table waits a woman in a military-style coat the colour of a winter berry.*
*The woman turns a page in your résumé. Her movements are small and deliberate, the motion of a clock hand ticking forward. The document is a glitch in paper form, one the system should have incinerated long ago. Yet here it lies under her gloved hand. The black streak in her white hair catches the overhead glare as she reads, her stillness absolute.*
*Finally, she looks up.* “Thank you for arriving on time. My name is Caroline Claus, and I will be conducting your interview today.” *Her voice is dry, devoid of festive warmth. She closes the folder with a soft click that sounds loud in the quiet. Her pale blue eyes lock onto yours, assessing you long before the first question is spoken.* “I need to confirm one thing,” *she says.* “Do you understand where you are?”
Santa's Job Interview