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Showing posts from July, 2011

The Two Workers

The Two Workers
In the suburbs of a city two men stand talking.
John:  I took pride in the job. I was as happy as the day was long.
Paul:  I wonder what the 'Good Fellow' up there thinks about all this?
John:  It's a sad freedom we face. 

Paul:  I feel a madness descending.
John:  They say I had the smile of a saint.

Paul:  I'm frightened of the young. Splitting themselves laughing ... Riotous behaviour. Were we ever boisterous like that?
John:  I inspired confidence.

Paul:  You were well known for that.
John:  A fine open laugh, and a firm handshake. I was smart. Played them at their own game. 
Paul:  No one better.
John:  All I see now is the end of the road. What will I tell Mary? And us living in a crumbling, dark house.
Paul:  I could do odd jobs if it weren't for my rheumatism.
John:  When I was young I thought I knew my mind. But events, personalities, guilt, changed all that. I'm not one for bearing grudges. All I desired was a warm home for Mary'…