by Shannon Peil
Unemployment hits ten percent and these men come into the office smelling of a failed retirement and last night’s whiskey. The turn over isn’t as fast as expected, I guess twelve bucks an hour starts looking great when you’re staring straight into the mouth of foreclosure. Me, I can’t imagine having more than a lease and some bills, never mind kids and grandkids to worry about. So this morning when management brought Wayne by, sat him down and made sure he knew where the bathrooms were, I smelled retirement. I smelled sawdust and grease in a garage during summer evenings. I smelled fresh cut pine and the morning cup of coffee, but most of all, I smelled disappointment.
6S
Shannon Peil gets published occasionally some places but rejected from others. He edits for people who actually know what they're doing here.
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Wayne
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6 comments:
Good story about sad times.
We are cornered by the market and the free pass,the banks get.Somebody should apply pressure to create jobs upon those that took them away.
Shannon, you had me at the office turn of the phrase ~ "smelling of a failed retirement and last night’s whiskey". I smelled not disappointment but a six which told the tale of the smell well.
~ Absolutely*Kate
I have to agree with Kate here^, that was very well written.
Cheers.
Nice work. Truth. Relevance. You're touching the human experience. Very well done.
Somehow, there's always enough money for the whiskey. No matter how hard you try to drown your sorrows, they come back to greet you in the morning.
Your vivid writing makes the sorrow palpable. Good job.
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