Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge
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“I hate my job.”
He took my hand as we walked down the wet sidewalk, just the sound of my heels and the occasional car that passed by. We turned the corner onto the busy street and merged with the flow of peditian traffic.
“I used to love my job, but now I sit across a desk and deliver some of the worst news people can be getting right now. I’m the face these people will always connect with losing their jobs. When I walk the halls, no one will meet my eyes, like I’m some sort of severance medusa and just a glance from me will mean the end of their income.”
He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, this was a rant he’s heard before and no words were needed. He knew how hard it was on me, it was harder on him, being one of the people who had to make the determination of who would be laid off and when. “The worst part is none of them know that once I finish with them, I’m last, my severance paperwork is on the bottom of that pile.”
They walked in silence until they reached their neighborhood bar, it had become a habit to stop in for a drink or two after work. She leaned in so she wouldn’t have to yell, “I’m like that freakin bowling pin from last month, just sort of chilling in the middle of the lane, causing everyone else frustration that won’t go away. You can either bowl around me
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