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Write a story about someone who knows it’s time to retire or change jobs, but is hesitating.

Posted in Adults on Oct 28, 2022

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✍️ 43 stories

Pants are Optional

Shortlisted for Contest #166 ⭐️

Be honest with yourself; you have a problem.  You spent all those years saving and planning and preparing for the moment when, come that first Monday morning, you could ignore the hour and roll over and sleep until only your aching bones could force you from your bed. Now, you have nowhere to be.  You can enjoy the sunrise from the patio chair on your back porch instead of squinting into it from the backed-up line of morning traffic. You can brew fresh coffee and drink it while it’s hot in a fragile, ceramic mug—a mug not intended ...

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The Redundant Crusade

Submitted to Contest #166

After what felt exactly like one-thousand-four-hundred-and-eighty-five years, Arthur was finally beginning to suspect he wouldn’t be needed any more, and that they could all retire just like his men wanted. But just then, the old stone door covering the cave entrance slid open, and they saw a figure silhouetted by the glory of the daylight. Arthur leapt to his feet at once, his chained mail jingling. “Merlin, old chap! It’s about bloody time.” Then all his knights jumped to their feet too, and everyone drew their swords and cheered, “Huzzah!...

34 likes 45 comments 45
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Surgery

Shortlisted for Contest #166 ⭐️

I always imagined, when it came down to it, that I would be forced out for some physical reason. Arthritis in my hands seemed to be a popular choice, followed closely by a herniated disk, or dementia. We actually used to joke about that sometimes, me and my young staff members, because for all of my diligence and dedication, I am well-known for being scatterbrained. The irony, of course, does not escape me. It actually makes me a little bit sad, and no one jokes about me having dementia anymore. No one jokes with me much at all, not since...

33 likes 26 comments 26
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I make over 6 figures as a Janitor

Submitted to Contest #166

I can’t tell you much about my organization. The only reason I’m being permitted to tell you these stories is because they simply don’t think anyone will believe me. And if you value your sanity, I'd suggest you follow suit. I can’t share any company secrets but I can tell you about some of the shit I’ve seen. You see, we’re the guys who clean up messes. Messes that don’t make sense. Is your son speaking backwards and doing backflips on the ceiling? You need the Janitors. Your dog stand up on its hind legs and tell you he’s God? You need the...

19 likes 7 comments 7
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The Final Skyscraper

Submitted to Contest #166

I stand at the edge of a sheer drop-off, looking out over a river meandering into infinity. The water calls out to me with a promise of calmness and serenity. On the opposite shore, dogs rush back and forth, excited to meet a new friend. A house with a wrap-around porch, large windows, and a bright yellow door hints at the warmth and comfort I will find inside.Although paradise beckons me, fear and vertigo take over when I look down at the river far below. Do I have the courage to make the jump? Could I survive? Although the water rises...

18 likes 6 comments 6
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blue memories

Submitted to Contest #166

I was 7 when my dad went to jail for the first time. My childhood was blue carpeted visits halls and those blue jeans he always had to wear and his intense blue eyes that seemed to hold something more than he was letting me see. It was all very blue. He came out when I was 14 and then went back when I was 15. Almost like he couldn’t be outside with us, like the big green acres of land behind our house was just too open for him and our hugs too full of love that he wasn’t ready to receive after 7 years of having it limited to short hour-long ...

18 likes 12 comments 12
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The Tap Dancing Healer

Submitted to Contest #166

Note: this story contains a metaphor for abuse, and to be sensitive to all readers, I thought it best to mention before you begin reading.Once upon a time there lived a woman named Zyla, who was gifted with the rarest of abilities. On a full moon, if she was outside, without warning she would begin dancing frantically, a big smile on her face, and her eyes a pure shimmering white.At the very spot she danced, a tree would grow, which bore fruit that could heal any illness in the world. Quite naturally, Zyla made 'dancing healer' her professio...

17 likes 10 comments 10
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Burnt Out

Submitted to Contest #166

Trigger warning: Covid / PandemicI sit in the dark with my laptop, surrounded by the glow of lavender candles. My apartment is complete chaos. There are empty boxes piling up by the front door that need to be broken down and recycled, my table contains remnants of a lost chess match, and in my bedroom are small mountains of clothes camouflaging the carpeting — and here I sit, in the dark basking in candlelight because I’m too physically and emotionally exhausted to tackle the dysfunction surrounding me. If you work in healthcare, or mor...

17 likes 5 comments 5
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The Carrier

Shortlisted for Contest #166 ⭐️

George Barnes was a mail carrier. The greater part of his fourty year career was spent taking the neighborhood of West Sagamore by foot. He was offered better routes over the years, ones with less hiking and houses that were easier on the eyes. As the years took their toll on George’s knees, he was encouraged to take another route. After all, he’d certainly earned it with his years of loyal service.Places like West Sagamore were meant for fresh faced carriers, with untried limbs and naive vigor. But with each passing season, George...

16 likes 8 comments 8
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Old Dogs

Submitted to Contest #166

           They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but in Bill’s mind, most of the new dogs could learn a trick or two from him.            Bill Baxter, a thirty-six-year veteran with the school board, worked most of his later years as a school custodian. Now, at the age of seventy-eight, his supervisors are asking him to pack it in and retire.            While most of hi...

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The Lamplighter

Shortlisted for Contest #166 ⭐️

The Lamplighter Carol Ann Martin “Well, that was very nice, I must say.” Ethel Hardy pulled the pins out of her best velour hat and laid it gently as a baby on the parlour table. “I think they did Dad proud.” “Bloody think so,” grunted Arthur. “How many years has he given ‘em? Sixty, is it?” “Well, he seems happy anyway,” Ethel smiled fondly at the old man who shuffled into the room behind them.    It was only the second time that any of them had seen Albie in his suit, the first time being at his wife’s funeral twenty yea...

14 likes 8 comments 8
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The Most Familiar Voice I've Ever Heard

Submitted to Contest #166

     I see the last bit of cloth disappear around the corner, as the flames grow ever closer to my skin. She’s gone. She left me. My eyes dart around the burning room, panicked. I need to find a way to escape. I could follow her, run out the door and hope I get to the first floor before the fire gets to me, but my legs do not move. They won’t. She didn’t even look back. Maybe she thought I was following her? I feel the heat on my skin, in my lungs, choking. No, she knew. She didn’t look back because she didn’t want t...

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Happy Teacher’s Day

Submitted to Contest #166

8:05, Wednesday October 5, 2022, World Teacher’s DayI’m an English teacher in an expensive private school in Casablanca. I was hired a month ago as Head of the English Dept. I arrive at school early and punch the clock, none of the material in the classrooms work, but there’s one thing that works, the digital employee time clock that they installed at the start of the school year, just one month ago.I go to my office and open the old run-down laptop that they loaned me, I go onto the ‘koolschools’ platform and check the names of the students...

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The Door

Submitted to Contest #166

There’s a door he sees from time to time. It’s not a real door. Sometimes the image appears over a real door. It’s of rotting wood, green and black with mold, and overwhelmed with water, so much so that it drips onto any real surface he pictures it in. Tonight, he saw the door at an office party hosted at a downtown bar. He spoke with the husband of one of his coworkers. The husband, whose name wasn’t worth remembering, asked what his role was at the company. “Marketing.” He answered, making eye contact only when speaking the wor...

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Cinder Rhythm

Submitted to Contest #166

I love it. The scrape, scrape, scrape, scraaape of the metal pressing along the cinder. The plink, plink, plop of mortar from the trowel. I know what to do, plop, scraaape, pick up, place, plonk, scraaape away the mortar which seeps out from the pressure. My fingers feel like sediment, calloused from handling the cement. Sturdy, stuck, hard, callous.  --------- Sally is dressed in a floral pinafore; the same one every day. The same look every day. She offers me a roll; I take and hmmm like every other day. I hear the plink...

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