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grey eyes. In his pictures he wore a dark suit that ore than my first
never met the man but seeing his pictures on corporate unications sort
Friday's. When it was just ell we had dress down days on Friday's but
respect. "Well Jack the time has e for me to get gone" he said brightly.
going to hurt. I sat and talked with Mr. ell and he gave me his normal
like Mr. Withersby's. I am sure the material was nid would be properly
ge. Corporate policy dictated that we wore suits and ties, even on
voice sounding like the cheery, fatherly man I had grown to know and
off his eyes. The cufflinks on the shirt looked like some family crest.
office. When I arrived, he was loading his personal effects into a box. A
car with a white starched shirt with French cuffs and a blue tie that set
that Mr. ell was retiring blah blah blah and that the pany was in
By the time I returo my desk there anywide email explaining
Monday m was a new world. I arrived at work at my normal 7:45am. I
started my team meeting. I ran a meeting every Monday to ensure quality
suit and tie ly packed in a bag and headed to the locker rooms to
face. I had a great w relationship with Old Man ell and this was
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fit to my body with expert tail. I made my to my offid
o be early as I rode my bike and wore my bike leathers. I had my
The news hit me like a ton of bricks though I tried not to show it on my
cold chill ran up my spine. "Jake e on in" Mr. ell offered, his
I ged into my suit imagining what it would be like to go buy a suit
now that it e dressed. I think part of the reason was that Mr.
great shape blah blah blah. I was depressed and fused.
From his picture Mr. Charles Withersby was a handsome professional man. A
rugged looking guy with medium blond hair, ly shaven, with greenish
His eyes betrayed some remorse and sadness.
Withersby was a London high born and was used to British class crap. I
of gave me that indication.
fatherly pep talk before I left him to finish his pag.