HUMAN/SUPER First Contact 30

She added a heading for job history and entered the call center’s details. Now the resume was almost two thirds of a page. It would have to be enough.

She googled “virtual call center jobs” and fired off emails to several employers. Most were probably scams, pyramid schemes, but Angela knew how sift through to the legit offers.

She left her inbox open and tabbed over to Facebook. She skimmed a bunch of updates about her father’s Pacific cruise. Numerous clickbait links from high school classmates she barely knew. And a handful of baby photos from a cousin halfway across the country.

She looked up Genesis’s profile and clicked through to her photo albums. Every picture had Genesis at a party, a bar, a cafe, surrounded by people. Smiling. Laughing.

Angela went back a bit further in time and found Genesis with Jackie, faces pressed together, camera held at arm’s length, sun shining in the background. More photos: Jackie standing behind Genesis, fingers locked in front of her stomach; Genesis sitting on Jackie’s lap; the two of them lying together on a couch.

Angela felt a surge of anger, but she wasn’t sure to whom it was directed. She suspected the feeling wasn’t entirely her own. She logged out, checked her email once more, and shut down the computer.


Angela woke coughing, doubled over with her head between her knees. Her throat burned like she was inhaling sandpaper. When she tried to speak, she could barely manage a hoarse whisper.

For a moment she started to panic about how she could do her job in this condition. Then she remembered yesterday and panicked some more.

She padded out to the kitchen and downed several glasses of water. It didn’t help. She brewed a cup of tea and sipped at it while she checked her email.

She got a couple replies to her applications, but they were both scams. She deleted them and sighed.

Her phone buzzed.

“Lunch today?” Genesis texted.