A Very Short Story

The words of the email began mulling around in my brain. There’s never much going on there anyhow so they don’t colide with much. Just bouncing on the walls of my skull. Echoes in the empty chamber. “We regret to inform you but due to budget reasons, we will have to end your contract. If you have any disagreements or anything you would like to say or if you would like to take this further as a tribunal please contact us with the number present in this email. We’d like to thank you for your service over these many years! Please deliver your work uniform to the present address in this email. You will be reimbursed for delivery costs. Cheers.”

So that was it. After twenty one years of working it’s come to this. All those hours I put in. All that overtime I took. All that commitment. All those managers I kissed up to. The occasions I missed to get promotions. Should I say “attempt to get” rather.

I suppose that’s it. Not much else I can do now really. I wonder how things are looking in the pension pot?

Old Arthritis

I was walking on the pavement

Cars passing every so often

Old man from across the street

A road seperates us

Walking arthritis

You could hear the cracking of bones

From miles away

I don’t know why he bothers coming out

It’s more hassle than it’s worth

Stay indoors, old man

Let your bones rest

Let them wither, twist and writhe

Inside of your skinny, fading frame

Unable to urinate by yourself

Pathetic

You are dead-weight

In this hard-working society

 

Walking in the middle of the road

Hit by a car

Real hard

I can’t move

I don’t feel anything

Numb

The old man walks slowly

Passing my body

His eyes on mine

For the longest time

I hear a pained snigger

He leaves me on the road

Walking away

At least he can, I suppose