Patrick was never fond of beginnings, empty things that only beg to be fed, giving nothing back until they die of surfeit. Easy enough, except beginnings are finicky, rejecting anything but the better morsels, draining one’s soul until they are sent to whatever Nirvana these things attain when finally done.
“So sorry, Pat. Times have been hard on the company, you understand” said his supervisor in a falsely sympathetic voice. Shelley has been trying for months to get rid of Pat and finally, to her great delight, managed to convince the higher ups that his position was redundant.
“That’s OK, Shel. Good thing I landed an interview last week at Tangent, right?”
Shelley visibly deflated; Tangent was the main reason why things didn’t look so rosy these days.
Great, he thought, now all I have to do is actually get a new job. Tangent wants new talent and that’s me all right, twenty years ago. The other places in town are jokes, no way I could get half of what I’m earning here with them.
Lousy way to start the day.