It was early afternoon, and it had been a quiet day. I had gotten a few things from the shops and done some things in the garden. Staff party tonight. Christ, I can't be arsed. All that brown nosing. I'll have to stand with the boss, and he won't be listening to a word I say. He'll just be leering at my wife, Jane. She copes well with it, but I know she hates it. We're both in our late thirties now. There was a time in our 20s it would have been funny. We would have laughed about it. But now? He's a lecherous old man in his mid-fifties and it's just sad and very annoying.
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The beginning of this story occurred at least a dozen years ago when I worked for a former employer and would travel to various cities on business. These business trips occurred quite often and would vary from overnight stays to a week in duration. One of these cities was St. Louis and the stays were usually three to five days long. Clients and vendors would usually wine and dine me most nights but eventually I needed some time to myself, so I started begging off at least one night during each visit.
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I arrived at my flat at 7-00a.m. on Monday morning, thankful I had finished my final night shift of ten. Four days before I returned to work, I was determined, not a single hour would be wasted.
I picked up my mail behind my front door and shuffled through them. A letter from my Solicitor got my immediate attention. After ripping open the envelope, I punched the air the letter contained my decree absolute.
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