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Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Death of a Bee

He received the news on December 10, 2010. It was a Thursday and was like any other day, except this Thurday was his last. As he listened to the causes that were rattled off one by one, his heart slowed along with everything else, time included. Looking around the room, Chris felt sympathetic towards those who were delivering the news as well as those that were simply there as observers. It saddened him to think that this duty was part of their job description. Saddened because, though this was the end of the road for Chris, it was merely another stop for the man delivering the news and his protégé. Tomorrow, as Chris dealt with what he was being told, these two gentlemen would most likely have to sit before some other poor guy and sound the same death knell. That was how this epidemic worked. Chris leaned back in his chair and deemed himself lucky. Lucky, because unlike what he had heard about these disclosures, his was a semi-private affair. Only two others had fallen prey to the scourge this day, in this region. Normally, the news was delivered to ten or more and the end result was always panic. With ten or more in a room, the rumors always trickled from at least one doomed souls lips. The government could have contained the situation was the predominant argument, but there were others and all were incendiary. Once the spark of conspiracy ignited so too were the tempers of those in attendance. Perhaps that was the reason for the intimacy of this disclosure. Maybe the powers that be thought it best to deliver such news on smaller scale a much wiser approach. It then dawned on Chris that, if this smaller easier controlled group theory were true then there would be a few more of these intimate groups receiving the same news later today. Chris' heart sank further. As bad as he felt for himself, he couldn't help feel sorry for those for whom this news was still only speculation. Just as he had, those ignorant to their fate would have to endure the rumors and guessing games played to determine who would be next to be told to they were leaving.

That night Chris choked on the words as he gave the abridged version of the meeting. The look of terror on his wife's face was bad, but it was the confused looks of his daughters that striped him of his courage. The tears that moistened his cheeks burned his soul. What would become of them? Chris' concern was not for his kid's emotional well-being. He knew that all three were strong and would persevere, but he was worried about their future prospects. Financially, how would he and his wife cope with the rising cost of education. Gabi, the oldest was only five years away from college, while her younger sister would follow two years after her. What money would there be for either of them given the decaying economy? What money was there for the basic necessities of life. His loving wife worked, but like most teachers, her salary only served to make them ineligible for most government assistance. Bills would have to be prioritized. Food, though not rationed would have to be prepared in such a manner as to minimize waste. The life she had become accustomed to would have to change. In contrast to his daughters however, Chris was concerned about her emotionally: The man she fell in love with was no longer invincible. Chris wondered what else he would lose now that he was no longer gainfully employed.

…to be continued.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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