Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Shoes

The window in his third-floor office provided a clean, safe perch from which to eye the workers below. He ran the factory as he ran his life, with incredible precision and without waiver. People would always need shoes, and he made them. He made them well and beautiful and with that dinosaur of a machine that made the pundits cry "sweatshop" and the fashionistas cry with delight. And so he kept making shoes, because he knew nothing else, though they all thought he did. High in his impeccable red-lined box, he choked back his $200 cognac while the grimy masses below toiled endlessly for their daily bread.

6 comments:

  1. This depicts a well-known fact: life isn't fair. I feel awful for wishing he'd choke on is cognac :)

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  2. Well written slice of real life.

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  3. from ivory towers...people can fall hard. Enjoy that cognac, the masses might revolt yet ;)

    Nice flash

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  4. Very tight writing. I kind of hope his shoes are too tight! :D

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  5. Oooo. I like the grimy masses and expensive booze. Nice job with the prompt. I like the idea that everyone believes he could do anything, but in reality, this is it. Thanks for linking up. Hope to see you back on Friday for the new prompt.

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  6. Nice job. Sweat shop indeed! I hate people who profit off of other's sweat.

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