office. When I arrived, he was loading his personal effects into a box. A

From his picture Mr. Charles Withersby was a handsome professional man. A

like Mr. Withersby's. I am sure the material was nid would be properly

o be early as I rode my bike and wore my bike leathers. I had my

face. I had a great w relationship with Old Man ell and this was

that Mr. ell was retiring blah blah blah and that the pany was in

Withersby was a London high born and was used to British class crap. I

great shape blah blah blah. I was depressed and fused.

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I ged into my suit imagining what it would be like to go buy a suit

voice sounding like the cheery, fatherly man I had grown to know and

never met the man but seeing his pictures on corporate unications sort

of gave me that indication.

started my team meeting. I ran a

The news hit me like a ton of bricks though I tried not to show it on my

vember. Mr. ell asked me into his

By the time I returo my desk there anywide email explaining

Friday's. When it was just ell we had dress down days on Friday's but

car with a white starched shirt with French cuffs and a blue tie that set

fatherly pep talk before I left him to finish his pag.

grey eyes. In his pictures he wore a dark suit that ore than my first

going to hurt. I sat and talked with Mr. ell and he gave me his normal

cold chill ran up my spine. "Jake e on in" Mr. ell offered, his

now that it e dressed. I think part of the reason was that Mr.

Monday m was a new world. I arrived at work at my normal 7:45am. I

His eyes betrayed some remorse and sadness.

suit and tie ly packed in a bag and headed to the locker rooms to

off his eyes. The cufflinks on the shirt looked like some family crest.

fit to my body with expert tail. I made my to my offid

rugged looking guy with medium blond hair, ly shaven, with greenish

ge. Corporate policy dictated that we wore suits and ties, even on

respect. "Well Jack the time has e for me to get gone" he said brightly.