“Sit wherever you like” she said, as if I actually wanted to be there.
“Thanks for coming today. Your opinions are…” her words faded with my concentration.
The painting on the wall morphed from a nondescript pattern into a sailboat into a small child reading a tattered book under a tree. Her hair was gently swaying under a spring breeze, her bare feet shifted softly through luscious green grass beside her now discarded shoes and the corner of her mouth subtly lifted to a smile.
“A or B?” she demanded more than asked.
“I’m sorry, the hour has passed.” I stood up quickly before picking up my bag. “Can I have my incentive now?”
Ignoring the shocked look on her face, I took the envelope and left the room. Focus groups have never excited me but the money is easy.