Oct 27th, 2014

I had class tonight, and we were asked to do a writing exercise... write a speech, given by a secondary character at the wedding (or funeral) of another character.
As one might expect, I didn't do it.
Which is not to say I don't see the value in the exercise, just that as I'm not really working on any single project right now, there wasn't much point in me inventing a character, or rehashing an old one.

However, in the spirit of writing every day and taking a close look at character, I decided to make today's jumble of words reflect the inner thought of a man who had experienced much loss.

I'm not sure 'enjoyment' is to be had, but perhaps some level of appreciation.

I woke up at 6am, like I do every morning. I had become so used to it that I didn’t even need an alarm clock. Out of habit, I stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom.

I soon found myself filling the coffee maker, without really remembering walking down stairs. The bread was already in the toaster.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I had no where to go.

After 37 years at the plant, after devoted service, never questioning, never stepping out of line… it was all gone.

My job at the plant had cost me my health, my wife and my family.

I had done every job they had asked of me, every overtime and weekend shift, every chemical spill clean-up, every stinking thing they ask of me. Now, after all I’d given to them, they took everything I had.

The plant’s owners decide one day, that my services are no longer needed.

I arrive early yesterday morning and there’s a note on my locker to see the shift manager.

He apologized, but handed me a final check. 

6 weeks. 

Two that were owed to me, two more for accumulated vacation and two weeks severance.

Thanks very much.

The toaster popped the toast, with the slight smell of burning.

All I can do is stand staring at the coffee pot, now over flowering.

I collapse into a chair, slightly stunned.

My hard work, devotion and my loyalty had earned me nothing.

Not a retirement dream come true, not even a fancy retirement party.

All of my over time hours had lost me what little social life I had. Living so close to the plan, always on call. Both I and my wife suffered from severe health issues. My children don’t visit, having blamed me for their mother’s demise.

I’m alone and useless, unwanted.

Photographs of happier days line the shelves and mantle, small reminders of the life that has passed me by.

The boys from work must be starting to arrive at the gates now, bright and ready to get started. I can almost hear their voices, laughing, joking, telling tales of what they’ve done, or plan to do.

I wonder if they even realize I’m not there.

I wonder if they miss me.

I wonder.

The overflowed coffee bubbles away on the hotplate beneath the coffee pot. The toast, still waiting to be plucked up, now cold and hard.

And I am old and unwanted.

Ignoring the mess in the kitchen, I quietly, sombrely, climb the stairs, back to my bedroom.

Back to the comfort of the covers.

Back to the darkness of sleep.

Rest.

Dream.

Alone.

I’ve nothing else to do.

It wasn't fun to write, but it picked at a few sore spots and made me dig deep.
Perhaps, if for that reason alone, it was worth the effort.

Cheers,
and as always, feel free to comment.