“Today — is your last day.” Karl’s voice was terse, like he was telling her something she hadn’t already known, and didn’t want to hear. Which was about as far from the truth as possible — J-Lynn had started re-submitting her resume over a year ago, little more than six months after starting this job, when it had become clear that her supervisor’s voice really was that shrill.
j-Lynn sighed, shrugged her shoulder. “Well, yeah. Like they say, all good things come to an end.” And you eventually wake up from nightmares.
The middle-aged man standing in her cubicle doorway pursed his lips. “But is every ending — the start of another good thing? What do ‘they’ say about that?”
Suddenly feeling uneasy, J-Lynn reached back into the cabinet shelf, took down the last of its contents, putting some into the Jim Beam box, leaving others on what would soon no longer be her desk. Karl often had this effect on her; he was one of the more competent and reliable workers at their office, someone on whose answers you could definitively rely, but those answers were often provided with a jocular half-smile and obtuse language, leaving the impression he was keeping some vital truth in reserve. “Not sure what ‘they’ have to say about that — I’ll be sure to ask next time I see ‘them’.”
“You are — ” Karl cleared his throat — “moving on to something better, right?”
Although she had been asked that question dozens of times in the past week, having it come from Karl was a surprise. Never shy about challenging on matters of fact, he was reluctant to engage in discussions of opinion. Such as whether the new job she was taking — negligible raise, virtually the same responsibilities, a lateral career move if that, her third job with the same title in the last five years — really was something better.
But such doubts on a day like today would be like hoping for rain on one’s wedding. “Of course it is!”