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Showing posts from January, 2014

The Trickster

I’ve got them all fooled.  In my life I’ve held several jobs.  At each interview, at each performance review, I’ve convinced them I’m a good employee.  They think I’m a professor, or whatever the job happened to be before that.  In reality, I’m the trickster. I’m the individual who can’t be categorized.  You see, I’ve been a writer since I was a kid living on a pittance of an allowance and whatever I could earn from a summer job in a small, economically depressed town.  In my time off I was writing. Some day, I knew, someone would recognize my talent.  I would be paid for my stories and novels.  Nobody would know who I was—least of all my employers.  That dream refuses to die, despite the decades and the reams of unpublished material that coat my study.  Dutifully I trudge off to work. On a winter not unlike this one, I recall working for an employer whose employee handbook stated that the office would be closed for inclement when public schools were closed.  Then,