Redundant 

Johnathan sat in the field, mud covering the trousers of his designer suit and which made his expensive Italian leather shoes almost impossible to see. But he didn’t seem to care. Beside him lay his briefcase and Ipad, both of which contained thirty five years worth of contacts, numbers and sales leads. It was going to be a cold day in Hell before he relinquished all that knowledge. 

He had walked for miles to get to his favourite spot as a child, and looking up into the sky, he saw that the clouds still hid shapes waiting to be found.

“Thirty five years, and they throw me on the scrap heap” he mumbled to himself. “I should have followed my dreams and become an astronaut.”

Copyright: authorchrisbrown 

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