17x365: E.S.

At first I thought she had a kindly Old World grandmother look to her - grey hair tied in a severe bun, a slight hump to her back, a large nose and creased face. In my mind's eye I could almost see her wearing an Orenburg shawl, baking bread and sweets in a hut in the woods, like all good fairytale grandmothers do. "It's alright if you make a mistake," she'd cackle good naturedly, "How would you know?" It was very reassuring on the first day of the job.

But the next day and the next it was the same thing: "How would you know?" cackled ad nauseum, until she started to look more like Baba Yaga. I was certain she thought I was stupid. After two weeks I was glad to be out.