The boy said, “I saw you yesterday on Hyde Street.” His father said nothing. “And who you were with,” the boy added. Still nothing from his father, whose head hung down now. “You told me it was over,” the boy said. “It was,” his father replied. “Then what happened yesterday?” “A relapse,” his father answered. “A weakening,” the boy said. “You could call it that,” his father said. “Which reminds me,” the boy said, “that I’d like a good raise in my allowance.” “But I give you a good allowance now,” his father said. “I could ask mom,” the boy said. His father threw up his hands. “You got it,” he sighed.
He hoped hiking amid this nature-rich, mountainous setting would relieve the overburdening pressure of his workday corporate existence. Oh, the grassy loam cushioning his every step here. Ah, the cloudless azure of unlimited overhead. Ooh, the gossamer foliage through which he saw multi-height peaks in the distant mist. Multi-height? Tall next to less-tall peaks? Taller next to more-tall peaks? The more he stared at those different-size peaks, the more they morphed into something other than mountains. “Good God, a graph,” he thought. In his mind’s eye, those various-size mountain peaks became spires of different height on a profit-loss graph. “Way out here, even way out here,” he moaned, “I’m back in the office.”
Some things are better left unsaid. So I text them.
Some people’s loyalty is unwavering. Though whom they’re loyal TO tends to drift.
Then there was the guy who lost his job when he was outnumbered. Three nines to his pair of sixes during working hours.
Most people’s comfort zone is some distance away from the brink. But close enough to see their competitors go over it.