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Transfer Protocol

“I hear you’ve been transferred to the New York office”, Kevin said. “Bummer.”

“Yeah, got the news last night. I’m really going to miss this place”, I lied, remembering when I asked, almost begged for this transfer months ago. I’m finally going to leave this sorry excuse for a city.

I let out a sigh of relief, which he’ll think it’s one of regret. Kev’s not a bad guy but pretty much typical of this place, a city in name and numbers only, with the soul of a small town. Nothing wrong with small towns if they’re small; when one has over half a million people and still has the mindset of a village… well, you get this suffocating, bland place filled with “nice” people who constantly get into your business.

The well-meaning ones are the worst, because they want to “help”. I feel bad disliking them, but only a little. Being friends with people like Kev is more of a burden than anything else these days.

Soon, though, the colder but honest embrace of a city will set things right.

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