Sufferance

Upon receiving my very first paycheck, I instantly felt as if all my hard work has been righteously justified. It's not easy to slog through an entire morning of charming kids, hastily gulp down your lunch in 1.5 hours and then twiddle your thumbs till 5.

Today me and my colleague Joel, upon strolling back through the housing estate from lunch, observed a scene of such heart-rending tranquility that we had no choice but to remove our shoes and submit to the harsh, upturned stones of the foot reflexology path.

Ambling painfully along in our socks, we regarded the surrounding spotless flats, the cool sheltered walkways, the lush abundant greenery and the gentle breezes that swept through the park upon ringing peels of children's laughter, and we felt irreparably, inconceivably old.

We let out such sighs of desolation and loss that we had to find a bench to sit on, clutching our shoes as if they were the last tenuous links to the march of youth and the climb of ambition. I could have sworn that Joel, who is very pious, uttered this anguished prayer:

"Lord preserve us, if our daily work confronts us thus with our own mortality!" Amen to that, I say, Amen!