Words count

You know, I wasn’t really cut out for a desk job, I’m not that kind of person. The world surely needs those sorts, but call me if you need a problem solved – I’m the creative type who believes in searching for a solution, not waiting for one to maybe turn up. I suppose the funny remarks I had posted in my office, were a way of flexing my right to be independent, be my own person. I was working to put food on the table but not quite in the right place to do it, nor planning to stay for the long haul. In fact I lasted five years in that job, which was something of a record, so it wasn’t about me at all.

Dead ahead when folk came through the door there were four nine inch nails hammered into the wall – it wasn’t the most modern or fancy office – upon which were impaled notices and letters. Below each nail was a plaque, which, reading from left to right, said:

Needless to say there was nothing on the first two nails, a few slips on the third one, and every piece of paper I could find jammed on the fourth!
Seeing that slowed a few up, so that by the time they reached the desk and saw the notice there, whatever bitch they were working on died on their lips, for the chaser read;

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