The Proverbial War (Chapter Two - Past Sins, page 1 of 11)


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I stood there alone within the room as tears of impotent fury coursed down my cheeks to splatter on the expensive parquet marble floor. I wiped them away with the sleeve of my blouse and then at my lips roughly not caring if the wiped off lipstick stained the blouse or not.

After a few moments of silent rage I turned to the door. I saw a trashcan and going to it I tossed the un-passed out dirt files into it. It was garbage anyway.

I left then and made my way through the ranks of concerned employees who were in a shocked daze at their sudden joblessness. I had helped put them there and for what?

To keep my head above water as it were?

Francesca's laughter rang out from somewhere else in the building and reminded me of something of a biblical import. In the effort to keep my head above water I'd landed in hell and the laughter of my tormentor only brought that realization to full light.

Life was hopeless!

It always had been, but now it was doubly so. It didn't matter what one did to bury or move on from past mistakes. They always had a way of resurfacing to the forefront and multiplying.

I wanted to scream, actually I just wanted to lay down and die. Like an old animal too tired of life to continue taking in the needed nutrition to support life.

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