“We’re eliminating your position.”
Just like that I was unemployed and a year later I still didn’t have a job that would pay all my bills. I was once again living in my parent’s basement. Something had to change so when Aunt Victoria called with a business proposition, I didn’t hesitate.
Now I was slouched down in the driver’s seat of a rental car spying on Uncle Ralphie. My phone buzzed.
“What’s that rat doing?”
“Aunt Vic, you have to stop calling! I’ll let you know when something happens.”
I recalled that Winston Churchill referred to Britain’s years of economic hardships as the locust years. That pretty much described my current condition. A nugget of an idea began to form. If I completed this job to Aunt Victoria’s satisfaction she might suggest me to her book club friends. They all had husbands who needed watching.
Finally Uncle Raphie stepped out onto his front porch. I grabbed my binoculars and focused as he slowly walked down the steps, tugging on the leash of Aunt Vic’s bichon. They disappeared around the corner as I was dialing my aunt.
“He is walking the dog, just as he claimed.”
Job well done.
posted at http://writingthe200.wordpress.com
prompt – locust