Why I Quit: A Work Fable.
Like popsicle sticks stuck on flimsy construction paper, her mouth glued shut. I just sat there and stared in awe while her lips moved but absolutely nothing came out. It worked, it really worked.
…
My apartment apothecary was flourishing. Growth crept out of every crack, crease, and crevice. My green thumb became forest and lush and magic. I’d been working on a few concoctions but never thought I’d need to use them. Until today.
Earlier in the week, I got a DM from a friend. I usually see them posting online in our favorite groups and sharing super insightful posts. But this message wasn’t that. This message deserved all my attention.
“Hey Berry…”
“Hey!”
“Do you work with an Alison?”
“OMG…what happened? What did she do?”
“Um, let’s talk…”
So we talked. And we talked. And we talked. A series of screenshots about me interrupted the call. My mind all over the place trying to devise a plan without me getting fired.
“Do with these what you will.”
Alison’s tears were her weapons and if I decided to confront her I have to find a way to make her tears transform into the Sahara desert. Because once they pierced the skin, the likelihood I would lose my…
