It had been any normal day it could be, normal Monday one might presume as hectic yet comforting, with mediocre songs from houses afar filled the air, so solemn and so mild, it complemented the breezy dry wind of May, brought together pollens from almost decomposed weeds, and quiet and serene at the same time. So bizarre, it made a normal Monday, Monday that had been the way it was since he came over here, the day when he thought he had made an impeccable choice ever in his life.
But that Monday came to a surprise as an abnormal Monday, the Monday he would cherish for the rest of his life, perhaps. For the past a year and a half, the quest had been tiring, exhausting, and his entire saving once reached zero, forcing him to regain back the money into the account, setting himself for another quest, with a single goal, so close yet so far to get in hand.
All these years, he had wiped many shit smeared asses with his bare hands, trying to make a living. A company filled with humongous parasites, with teeth long enough it stretched down to their limbs, tongues in pale pink like a cobra, eyes bloodshot red, words coming from their mouth were so poisonous you had to cover your ears not to elude with their requests. Of course dragons were not the ‘thing’ he was referring to, more like a parade of men in their crisp white stripy shirts, in their fanciest fragrances, shield with orders of incomprehensible.
Once, he had forced himself to be a tad dismissive, ignoring their orders like the smell of rotten pig, stink like hell but once inhaled, it made you wanted to puke, but remained unharmed. What else he could do other than listening and taking orders, for which he was employed to be someone he has been designed to be, just like now?
He had never liked this idea, of him designated as Engineer on paper, but an ass by nature. So many tasks (which he did not really care) yet so little time. The pay was good, more than what he bargained when he passed the fourth stage of the interview (yes it was that hard!), the colleagues were freaking nice more than he expected, but when it came to the management level, he loathed them with all his heart.
There were times when he tried to console himself by composing stories of unlikely, like They are the bosses, and I am the pig. Just swallow it, bitch. Or even If I were the boss, I would do the same too. And that strings of words had been his motivation, when the anger struck, these words appeared out of thin air, stuck in his head. Then he swallowed it all hard, like a slump in a narrow throat. And resumed his job like it was nothing. Nothing happened. Just an order from a superior that he respected so much.
He laughed.
It is all history. Like Hitler, or MJ, or Prince Diana, or Heath Ledger. They had gone, buried down there under tonnes of dirt, but the legacy remains. The talks continue.
Well, maybe he would not be one of those icons, carving the history with block of letters comprised of their names, but at least he had made his own history. Of not falling back to the dark pit that almost set his life into perish. Of being able to walk out from this tunnel of no end.
An almost familiar number flashed on the screen.
“Hi, can I speak to Mr. Farid Ibrahim?”
“You got him”
“blablablablabla successful blablabla start work blablablabla salary USD12200 blablabla”
He smiled. He had paved the way out from the hell and he positively believed that he had carved his own history. Though he would be another pig in a new company, he cared less. The money they splurged on him was astronomically better than what he earned here.
He wrote a letter.
Dear Sir,
I quit.
Best of luck!
Farid I
His mom once said, Do what you love and the money will flow in. He did not love this, but the money flowed in. So fuck it.
I am free.