By Tye Iverson PZ ’26

The certificate that I bled over, the one that had my tears staining my palms white with mountains of salt, finally landed me in this room. My whole life I’ve waited for a moment such as this. My parents have always expected nothing but greatness, and it seems as though I’ve delivered. Oh, to be on the top floor; the windows are a little wider, the eyes of Man a bit more narrow. Such a place makes the hills rise from my pores. The Geese are flocking! And now, he sat across from me; the Man I’ve learned so much about. 

This Man, the one who could give me all that I desire, wore a blue suit. His dress was so neat and ordered one could still see the steam from his private dry-cleaners located down the hall and to the left from his office, near his assistant’s bedroom. His striped gray tie fit the navy color like a ball in a glove, so satisfyingly well. His skin was leather, worked in but smoothed with an impossible care we all wanted to achieve. The wealth that overloaded his pockets had also given him bleached veneers, which he’d had drilled in up on the hill, right at the top, by his empty home.

He was perfect. I’ve never seen anything like it; I knew it’s what I wanted. He opened his mouth to speak, hesitation clearly being something he’d never experienced:

“You know what I heard today?” Slowly, he leaned over his desk to whisper, “The engine wants a new name! I overheard it calling for a wise man.” He leaned back and began speaking normally again, “I suppose that’s what it wants. Is that what you want? To be a piece of the puzzle, that is.” He was smiling the whole time, although it wasn’t real but rather something practiced. 

Before answering, I peered towards my shoe to hide my excited smile and saw an ant. It held a crumb above its head, the massive weight seemed to cause distress upon its tiny body. The three sectors of the ant’s anatomy shook under the weight of the object that was far too big for it to hold. I glared for merely a second longer, until the Man placed his foot forward without looking and crushed the ant. I watched the small piece of life twitch to death as I looked up, thinking nothing of it.

“Yes.” Slowly his veneers smiled with pleasure from my answer, his smooth leather skin stretching with an inhumanness plastered upon him, though hard to find. A white poster to a white wall.

“Very well…” He slowly got up, pushing his hands off the table to support himself. He walked around the left side of his desk in perfect form, seemingly choreographed; he’s done this a million times. He arrived at his destination which happened to be just to my right. He stood with the blank face of any statue, turning off the eerie smile he’d held upon his face for most of the interview. I was full of pure thrill; I knew what was to come and I wanted it. The yearn engulfed me. I fixed my gaze upon the Man in front of me. He looked me up and down one more time before he opened his mouth. Slowly his lower jaw and bottom row of teeth dropped. They descended to the floor never seeming to stop as they passed the point of brokenness, but it was natural; he was used to it. When the bottom portion of his mouth finished falling and his chin met the floor, his tongue lolled, unfurling as if it were the red carpet leading me to success. Along it there were words burned in ink, Ignis Fatuus. Assuming it to be a slogan for the wise I stepped forward, feeling the hard office carpet turn to mushy taste buds. As I walked through his hallway of a mouth, the once roomy space slowly shrunk and soon enough I found myself on all fours–crawling. His saliva stuck to me like honey, keeping me from advancing too quickly. The farther I went, the smaller I had to make my body and soon enough I found myself laying on my stomach sliding down the Man’s esophagus. The light, at this point, had completely dissipated, and my fears finally began to creep upon me. I questioned my decisions that brought me here, but I knew hesitation is what kills. As the challenge of ignoring my guilt continued, I made sure to follow the darkness; it had become my only light.