I’d been tired, under
the weather, but the ansaphone kept screaming:
One more sick-note, mister, and you’re finished. Fired.
Apologies to Armitage.
Stitch that, I remember thinking,
you can walk from there.
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I’d been tired, under
the weather, but the ansaphone kept screaming:
One more sick-note, mister, and you’re finished. Fired.
Apologies to Armitage.
Stitch that, I remember thinking,
you can walk from there.