Some bad news

Some bad news - Gene Stone

Since my credit card and utility bills were piling up I thought it would not be such a bad idea getting a second job, like working in access control system installation like I use to when I was young. I could do a part time twice or three times a week, right after I am done with my main job.

Thus I looked through the newspapers in order to see what the available positions were. I did not mind doing any silly or monkey job, as long I was getting paid for it. Also it had to be in close proximity to my current workplace or my house. Given that I would be working more than ten or twelve hours per day, I was not willing to lose an extra hour commuting. Crossing the city during rush hour, because that is when I would be heading towards my second job, would have been a major impediment.

Once I saw that the newspapers were useless, I thought of giving it a try online. Using the and websites I was able to narrow down my search to two neighbourhoods. Within seconds my research revealed over thirty positions. While I was scrolling down, reading the title of the positions posted within the past week, I found three that seemed interesting and applied to all three.

Once I was done with my job hunt, I went on the balcony to have a smoke. As soon as I had lit my cigarette, my doorbell rang. I took another puff and placed the cigarette in the metal can that I used as an ashtray. I went back inside in order to see who the heck was looking for me at that hour.

Before opening the door, I had a look through the peephole. The first thing I saw was my brother’s big wide neck, and then I recognized his red jacket. I opened the door and invited him in. I was not expecting him. As a matter of fact, I was not expecting anyone.

He gave me a hug and handed me the canine car restraint system he borrowed a while ago.

While I was wondering why he came all the way over here to bring me this, something caught my attention. He was not wearing his wedding ring on his finger. I also noted that he had a red long scar on the left side of his neck.

Without asking him anything, I stood up and grabbed two glasses from the kitchen’s counter and a bottle of wine. I offered him a glass and after taking a sip he said on a sad voice that his marriage was done.