We Have to Let You Go

100-word resignation

Photo by Clem Onojeghuo on Unsplash

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Convince me, he had said. You have one hundred words to save your job. Bastard. I’ve been here seven years. Since it was a flashy start-up. I did the long days, the late nights, the early starts. Jesus, I didn’t even draw a wage until January. That made for a pretty shitty Christmas. But I digress. One hundred words, you say? What can I say to convince you? Without me you’d be … no, what about, I would love just five more weeks to finish the … no, okay, so what about, fuck your job, you despicable piece of …  

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