“Make sure that these straps are tightened. We do not want this flappin’ load back and forth.”
“Done. Wanna check?”
“Go maith, Jane. There are no red cards at ‘all.”
The two furniture movers were just finishing up strapping down the last of their shipment at a bicycle shop in the blazing Evillian summer heat.
“I don’t wanna be jobless, Conaire.”
“Sea! The value of paper! We’ll faint at every opportunity for it, ceart?”
They hopped in the truck to continue their route.
“The guys say that you were working on computers before you start working here. Why did you stop?” The radio was blasting some aggressive music playing bagpipes, at Jane’s suggestion, and after a loud section, Jane responded. “Laid off. Nothing on me and nothing’s panned out since. This pays the bills adequately and it’s low stress, so I’m happy.” Conaire, a large man with a long, wispy beard, laughed. “So you do not want big money? That’s new! What are you after, then?”
“You will not find that the happiness works with computers?” Jane looked out the window, staring out over the highway traffic, before answering. “Not really. It can be fun sometimes, and there are good people sometimes, but most of the time it’s just too stressful for the pay. I’d rather get paid less and not carry all that with me.” Conaire slapped the steering wheel. “Well, go maith! Guess if you marry the right man, you would not have to worry about money, ceart?”
“Possibly. There’d probably still be some worry.”
They slowed down as they hit some heavy traffic on the major thoroughfare back into Eville. “Sea! Point made. This job is not easy for a lifetime. We get into traffic. If the traffic is not there, then it’s something else, like the weather… But I must say, it seems that you get this job easily! You never give me a complaint!” Jane shrugged. “Nothing here to get bothered about. We’re all just here to get it done and get home unscathed. Detlef is great about that, too.”
Conaire stroked his beard.
“Sea! There are plenty of other bigger moving companies in town and many other jobs that I can do. But I like the culture of the company and the people here! What is the use of gambling this job away for another that is the same?” Jane, in her black hoodie, shrugged. “I’ll probably be here until I get back into the computer field again or something much bigger comes my way. Otherwise, I’m fine with this sort of work. I have a short commute and I don’t get paged.”
Conaire laughed even louder than before.
“You know what’s funny? Just like you, I’m not worried about money! This is a great deal compared to what we could do.” Jane looked out over the trees and caught a brief glimpse of the ocean before looking back to Conaire.
“Yeah, we could be doing work that makes us faint, right?”
|Sources: Randomly-generated words: flap, card, jobless, paper, and faint. Random name.|
|Inspirations: Unintentionally, it was actually a call with someone about a job offer that would pay the same, but it would be a stressful transition. It wasn’t worth any potential perks, so later on, I subconsciously went through processing that phone call in this short story.|
|Related: Somewhere in the Sammohini Arc of “The Story.”|
|Photo: Random alley in Seattle. Any symbolism about the grit and different colors of concrete are purely primordial and for implying.|
|Written On: July 25th [1 hour]|
|Last Edited: August 15th [0 minutes]|