Business, As Usual


“One day all of this will be fields” says the managing director, dressing down in orange sweater as a way to connect with the odious cretins that work for him. “Fields… everywhere.. ” he repeats, over and over again until his voice wears thin and silent. Simon stands by, at ease like his best soldier-son impersonation.

“Erm.. will be fields?” asks Simon. He looks for at the boss for a second and then back straight ahead and arms resting false casual like a police officer. “Aren’t they fields now?” he says and then winces at his mistake.

The boss laughs, coughing at the boy. “What’s that?” he asks in mock surprise, but he smiles and emits an aroma like boiled potatoes and sausages, the smell of disdain and superiority. “So much to learn..” he says and shakes his head before continuing.

“In my day, thinks made sense like that.  Bridges went from one side of the river to the other. Cats chased mice and Dogs chased cats. Grass was greener on the other side and a stitch in time always save nine.” He paused and sniffed the air and licked his lips, as if trying to taste the flavour of the moment. “But things are different know, can’t you see? The old ways are gone and now black is white and night is day. Nothing is what you think it is anymore.”

A silence hung between them and Simon blinked with an expression of ignorant stupidity all over his fluffy, moronic face. “Yes, I think I see…” he said hesitantly. “No!” barked the chief officer right back at him, all paternal chumminess hidden now behind a sargeant-major’s red and pimpled bursting grimace. “It’s exactly the opposite now!”


“Yes, now it really means that you don’t think that you don’t see. It’s not like you thought at all but in fact that means that you do see but you don’t realise it, which also means the opposite. See?”


“Good boy. Well done. You’ll go a long way.”

With that, Simon knew it was best to shut up right away and just stand there alongside the old nincompoop with his brain slowly turning to jelly and all the wet sheets and embarrasment that it promised for the weekend. Indeed, the old ways lay shrivelled around them like so much detritus of a collapsing society or last night’s discarded kebab wrappers.

And everything was exactly how it should be.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *