“Take a break from the old grind stone. We’ve got a meeting to go to.”
I smile. “Great. I could use a nap.”
No one thinks you’re funny.
He laughs. “I know, right? They’re just going to say the same shit they always do.”
We head over to the meeting. I only half pay attention while the boss talks about “synergy” and “optimising potential.”
This is the best you can do with your life. Loser.
We return to work and I continue my work on the new program. Trying to iron out the bugs for a successful launch.
Janet is just going to have to clean up after you. Why bother trying? Useless.
The day finishes like it normally does. We all gather around to go home.
“We’re way too behind.”
“I just want to sleep for a year.”
“Hey, chin up,” I chime in. “Tomorrow is another day. Bad news is, we’ll still be doing this.” We all share a laugh.
It’s sad how far you’ll go to pretend you have friends.
I say goodbye and head over to take the Subway home. I keep to myself, not really wanting to chat up some stranger.
That guy throwing up in the corner has more dignity than you. At least he’s open with his bile.
I get home at around 5:30. Sheila greets me. She’s the light of my life and looks lovely as usual.
“Welcome home,” she greets me with a smile.
“Great to be back,” I say, kissing her.
She’s fucking Steve while you’re out. Someday, you’ll find proof.
“How was work today?” She asks. “Busy before the big deadline?”
“Oh, no different than usual,” I answer. “But I’ll put up with anything for you and the kids. Even corporate drudgery.”
She slaps me on the back. “You kidder. Just wash up. I made your favourite chicken Parmesan tonight.”
“Sounds delicious,” I say. “You spoil me too much.”
“Welcome back, Daddy!”
My kids quickly swarm me when I enter. I give them hugs, pat their heads and bask in the comfort they bring.
Melissa doesn’t even look like you. But she does have Steve’s nose.
We say grace and eat the meal.
“It’s better than even the most famous michelin star chef could manage,” I say. “All hail the Goddess of culinary arts!”
The kids join me in a cheer.
“Oh, stop it,” Sheila says. “It’s not that good.” She protests, but looks pleased.
It may not be that good, but it’s better than you deserve. You should go back to your all fast food diet like the fat fuck you are.
We put the children to bed and I make love to Sheila.
Surprised she didn’t moan his name.
I’m feeling a bit restless. So, I sneak out of bed, careful not to wake Sheila, and go to the Study. I read some Dickens.
Pity you won’t leave behind anything worthwhile. You aren’t a genius like him.
I pour myself a small Scotch. I don’t want to get drunk since I have to work in the morning.
You shouldn’t bother holding back. You’d be right at home passed out drunk in a rubbish bin somewhere.
I take a break from reading and look around. My books, my computer, my decorative statuettes… they all seem so meaningless at the moment.
There’s an old revolver in my drawer.
You know what you have to do with it.
I hold it in my hand. It’s loaded.
I need to put it back and lock the drawer back up. I have work in the morning.
I have to earn my cheque for Sheila and the kids. They bring light to my life, after all.
You’re nothing but a wallet to them. If you died they’d just go to Steve. They wouldn’t even shed tears. Do it, Coward.
It all ends with a bang.