The Chips Within The Glass – Short Story

“I cannot be responsible for your pessimism, for it is not my fault! Why don’t you blame those who are really responsible, the ones up you’ve surrounded yourself with your entire life. They are the ones who should hold some sort of blame in what you are!”
“It’s not pessimism you manipulative son-of-a-bitch, it’s the reality of what is, is. We’ve seen things go from grander things to the bucket, and if I was to cast a glance back to see where it all started going this way it would be the day YOU took over,” Fletcher says venomously.
“Bullshit, you can’t drag this back to me. When I walked in the door the writing had been on the wall for a long time, you all just ignored it. I made decisions based on real survival techniques. I salvaged many dwindling relationships with outside sources. I gave this company a new breath of air to live from, so don’t talk down to me you pathetic simpleton.”
“Talk down to you? What makes it seem like I’m talking down to you? I’m giving you facts because you want them more than anyone else I’ve ever encountered. You talk about paths and where this connects to that all the time. You produce paper trails for shit rolls. You draw diagrams to show me how the level of rain effects our business in minute increments. I’m just doing the same, but with more defined logic. If you truly wanted us to be more, you’d take your head from your arse and see the true nature of what we are and not micro manage every second of your work day so you feel like you accomplish something, when in fact you accomplish nothing but passing the time required on your pay sheet.”
“What make you think I need to fill out a time sheet?”
They stare silently into each other’s eyes, then Cole looks down into the sink, focusing intently on the water that fills half of the basin, before looking back up into the mirror.
“Fuck you, you pathetic bastard! I QUIT!” He yells as he drives a fist into the mirror, shattering it into a few dozen pieces.

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