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As I warned you, there is nothing that I can say about our hiring process
right now. We’re in a precarious position, and have to keep things
confidential until the next step. But my work is the only thing I’m doing
right now, and I don’t have anything else to tell you. What shall we discuss
instead? How about I just make up a quick story for you? It’s been a while
since I’ve written fiction. I kind of started to try soon after I arrived
here, but nothing came of it. Yeah, I think I’ll see if I still have the
skills. Here goes.
I don’t have any trees in my yard, nor do my neighbors. They had all been
removed by the time my dog and I moved in here a few years ago, so I
couldn’t tell you why. I see stumps, so they were there at some point. I
bought it because there’s a lot of space for her to run around, and a really
nice deck. There was a tiny little porch behind our old house, and she loved
to sleep there, but she deserves better. One morning, I let her out to do
her business when I discovered a twig right in the center of the deck. It
had to have blown in from quite a distance away. I drew meaning from it that
surely wasn’t there. Still, I tossed it over the railing, and it landed on
the patio. The next day, I noticed it still sitting there, so I casually
threw it back up onto the deck. I kept doing that periodically ever since. I
would sometimes go out, and leave it alone, but sometimes switch it from one
of its landing spots to the other. Again, it wasn’t every time, but it still
felt like part of my routine. It felt like it was something that I ought to
do, like a little game I played with myself. A few weeks ago, I was barking
at my dog, trying to get her to do her thing quickly, because I was running
late for work. It was really hot, so while she can normally just stay
outside, I was going to have to keep her inside, and drive home during my
lunch break to let her out again. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was
doing, and heard a crack underfoot. I froze there for a moment, certain that
it couldn’t be what I thought. Perhaps it was only an acorn, or something.
Of course, an acorn would be just as unusual to find here, but far less
valuable, because that twig was mine. I carefully lifted my leg, and saw it
sitting there. It appeared to be okay. It was still intact. I smiled, and
picked it up. Yes, everything was going to be okay. I tossed it back up to
the deck, and called my dog over, so we could move on with our day. She
trotted up the steps, slower than I would like. She knows how impatient I
get, but my girlfriend occasionally comes in through the garage, and she’s
always sniffing around for her new mama, even when she’s not there. We got
all the way up to the deck, and then I saw it. The twig was where I threw
it, but in two pieces. It hadn’t survived my attack. I froze again, unsure
what I was supposed to do now. It sounds so stupid, this unremarkable piece
of wood, that I should care so deeply for it. How long would it have lasted
if this hadn’t happened? I’ll never know, because I ruined it. I can’t
concentrate on my work, or anything else I’ve tried to do. I think the
incident just sort of forced everything I wasn’t happy about in my life to
bubble to the surface. I dunno, I’m no psychologist. Life just seems so
futile now. No matter how many times you’re able to toss that twig over the
railing, it falls apart eventually. Everything ends. Everything dies.
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