You Mean There is God!

Top strategist enters the office, sweat is pouring from his forehead, he is drawn and tired, hasn’t slept a wink, his boss is behind the desk, on the phone, making a date with his afternoon girlfriend while his wife is away with her relations. See you honey, yes he says after a pause, an all nighter, see you then. He looks up at his sub lieutenant, gives him the growl look, anything new for me today he says, likes the stressed look on the face of the executive, has been up all night, no doubt working on some scummy story he plans on devoting time to.

I quit he says, while dropping a letter on the boss’s desk!

No one quits on me, haven’t you forgotten our secret the boss says, while taping a folder on the desk, warning his slave, we all have secrets.

Are you trying to intimidate me, it won’t work this time. I’ve just had a dream, and this is not going to end well, it’s the third time I’ve had it, it’s too much. The boss reaches into the drawer, extracts a bottle of pills, throws them over, take three of these you’ll never worry again, I take them all the time.

You don’t get it, the boss’s eyes widen, where did he get the balls to talk so plain to me, decides to listen. say it he says.

The same numbers keep coming up in my dream, and it’s a different face each time, and when I check them, they point to ancient warnings, the boss raises his eyebrows, your hallucinating, get yourself a new girlfriend, one who doesn’t have a conscience.

Every word we mutter is going to be held against us.

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