Partly Paisley – Dead Deer

Partly Paisley

Jim and Dave often met at the pub. They usually sat at the same table, but it wasn’t important to them. Today, as it happens, they were. Dave had bought this round, but now they were comfortably into their pints, not far but a while until the finished. This was what they came for. A time to sit and sip, a time to relax and chat.

Equally comfortable were their silences. Old, old friends and colleagues they enjoyed each others outlook and insights, but were close enough to just sit.

Right now, however, they were laughing. Jim’s deadpan delivery of the news regarding one of their old, hated, bosses left Dave full of joy. The tears ran down both their faces, as the clutched themselves and gradually regained composure, still punctuated by the odd chuckle.

Simon had finally come a-cropper. His self important arrogance, which when coupled with his incompetence had made him such an awful manager, had at long last been his undoing.

Jim had heard it on the grapevine. How they both longed to have been there to see it with their own eyes.

 

Today I wrote  between 23:43 and 23:53. I was prompted by an idea here.

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