Post by Deleted on Jan 3, 2015 9:07:35 GMT -6
***
Overall, 2014 had been a good year.
Looking through his office window, from the fifty seconds’ floor where his penthouse office was overlooking the town below, John was reflecting on the previous yearly goals that he had accomplished, while slowly sipping down on his scotch tonic. The gigantesque wall clock located beside the bay window was showing fifteen minutes to midnight but to John, it was stating a personal countdown to numerous other goals to be put forward by his administration.
Accomplishing goals had become somewhat of a bore for John. They were always met anyway, so it wasn’t much of a challenge anymore yet he still wanted more and he wanted it faster. Pushing his staff to the limits of what they could endure wasn’t good enough any longer, they had to exceed his expectations and those were high, really, really high. Yes, that would be his 2015 resolution; to exceed expectations like no one else had done before him.
“They thought I was ruthless…they haven’t seen anything yet…”
He savored the moment as another sip made its way down his throat. His momentarily brief mental orgasm was cut short by Ms Rutherford, his personal secretary of the last five years. “I’m done for the day Sir. Happy New Year…” she said as she deposited a blank envelope on his desk, another exercise in futility, he thought, as she’d always leave him a letter of warm wishes a few minutes before midnight, every single year.
He just smiled at her. “Happy New Year Elizabeth” was his only words as he turned around towards the window once again, wanting to go back to his inner peace; a peace that would only come from thoughts of accomplishments. Oh, his father would have been proud. After all, the Banking Firm he inherited had grown to be the biggest one of this last decade, the different departments were doing their jobs and the shareholders were appreciative of the results.
He’d lost a few good employees this year, all ruled as suicides but he understood that pressure doesn’t bode with everybody all that well. The results were there and it’s all that mattered. He had paid a price for the enormous success the Firm was holding, losing his wife and kids being one of those.
“Can’t make an omelet without breaking any eggs…” he’d tell himself once more as the first gong of midnight made its way to his ears.
“Happy New Year John…” as he got off his chair, looked throughout the bay window and cheered, lifting his glass up towards the city below after he’d swallowed the last drop.
But something was wrong. Something didn’t feel right. John was dizzy. Extremely dizzy.
“What the…”he shouted as he found out that he could hardly walk. He leaned against the bay window and turned around, staring at the bottle of scotch on his desk.
A very expensive bottle of scotch that had been given to him as a New Year’s Present by his Department Directors and by Ms Rutherford.
He then looked at the empty glass he was still holding in his right hand.
“No way…” he told himself as he let the glass fall and break on the floor while he tried to walk to the outside balcony. As if having a breath of fresh air would change the inevitable.
Leaning against the glass guard railing, John would only feel falling forward as he glanced over it, as darkness took over his eyesight, one last time.
***
< Another Banker Suicide > made the headline news on this early January morning...
Signed, sealed and delivered.
***
“Happy New Year Liz…” as she put the paper down on her coffee table, with a smile.
For Elizabeth Rutherford and twelve other Directors, an ex-wife and four young kids, 2015 would indeed be the Best Year of All.
Overall, 2014 had been a good year.
Looking through his office window, from the fifty seconds’ floor where his penthouse office was overlooking the town below, John was reflecting on the previous yearly goals that he had accomplished, while slowly sipping down on his scotch tonic. The gigantesque wall clock located beside the bay window was showing fifteen minutes to midnight but to John, it was stating a personal countdown to numerous other goals to be put forward by his administration.
Accomplishing goals had become somewhat of a bore for John. They were always met anyway, so it wasn’t much of a challenge anymore yet he still wanted more and he wanted it faster. Pushing his staff to the limits of what they could endure wasn’t good enough any longer, they had to exceed his expectations and those were high, really, really high. Yes, that would be his 2015 resolution; to exceed expectations like no one else had done before him.
“They thought I was ruthless…they haven’t seen anything yet…”
He savored the moment as another sip made its way down his throat. His momentarily brief mental orgasm was cut short by Ms Rutherford, his personal secretary of the last five years. “I’m done for the day Sir. Happy New Year…” she said as she deposited a blank envelope on his desk, another exercise in futility, he thought, as she’d always leave him a letter of warm wishes a few minutes before midnight, every single year.
He just smiled at her. “Happy New Year Elizabeth” was his only words as he turned around towards the window once again, wanting to go back to his inner peace; a peace that would only come from thoughts of accomplishments. Oh, his father would have been proud. After all, the Banking Firm he inherited had grown to be the biggest one of this last decade, the different departments were doing their jobs and the shareholders were appreciative of the results.
He’d lost a few good employees this year, all ruled as suicides but he understood that pressure doesn’t bode with everybody all that well. The results were there and it’s all that mattered. He had paid a price for the enormous success the Firm was holding, losing his wife and kids being one of those.
“Can’t make an omelet without breaking any eggs…” he’d tell himself once more as the first gong of midnight made its way to his ears.
“Happy New Year John…” as he got off his chair, looked throughout the bay window and cheered, lifting his glass up towards the city below after he’d swallowed the last drop.
But something was wrong. Something didn’t feel right. John was dizzy. Extremely dizzy.
“What the…”he shouted as he found out that he could hardly walk. He leaned against the bay window and turned around, staring at the bottle of scotch on his desk.
A very expensive bottle of scotch that had been given to him as a New Year’s Present by his Department Directors and by Ms Rutherford.
He then looked at the empty glass he was still holding in his right hand.
“No way…” he told himself as he let the glass fall and break on the floor while he tried to walk to the outside balcony. As if having a breath of fresh air would change the inevitable.
Leaning against the glass guard railing, John would only feel falling forward as he glanced over it, as darkness took over his eyesight, one last time.
***
< Another Banker Suicide > made the headline news on this early January morning...
John Edward Barnaby fell to his death from his high-rise office located on the fifty second floor of the Barnaby Building. A suicide note was found on his desk, sealed inside a blank envelope. It stated that Mr Barnaby had poisoned his own scotch, after having a shift of conscience, regretting the suicides of well valued employees he’d lost and that he couldn’t handle the remorse of pushing them to the edge. The note also stated that he was transferring all of his shares to his ex wife and his four children as they would inherit the Empire now, as he once did.
Signed, sealed and delivered.
***
“Happy New Year Liz…” as she put the paper down on her coffee table, with a smile.
For Elizabeth Rutherford and twelve other Directors, an ex-wife and four young kids, 2015 would indeed be the Best Year of All.
