The circular saw wound down to a standstill. He piled up the last of the cut logs.
Bill waved at him as he headed out the door, gesturing that he would see him for a drink at the bar. There were only four of them that went along for the end-of-the-week drink now, hardly the famed gatherings of the past.
He took the letter from his pocket again. Three weeks from today and he would be out of a job. They blamed a lack of demand for their product. Moving the company to a more flexible workforce. Adapting to the global economy.
There was nowhere else to find work. All the other local sawmills had closed down, unable to compete when the big national had taken over this one.
Three kids to support, an ex-wife who wouldn’t cut him any slack.
He’d checked the insurance policy. It even gave him a breakdown of how much each limb or digit would be compensated.
He pushed the button to start up the saw again.
Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.
To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
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