Laid off
All of a sudden, I felt a burst of creativity surge through me. I wanted to write, to pour my restless thoughts onto paper. Or maybe I could draw, sketch the chaos in my mind. The guitar in the corner, cloaked in dust, beckoned. Time to tune its strings and coax out a forgotten melody. I wondered if my fingers still knew the fretboard’s paths. It had been years since I’d had this much free time. Life was once a frantic raceleaping from bed, gulping breakfast, squeezing into crowded trains. Now, that rhythm was gone. I’d been laid off, cast aside by the company I’d given my heart and soul to for two decades. At forty-five, I faced the daunting task of job hunting. I stared at the ceiling, its peeling paint a mirror of my unraveling life. My phone read 5:00 a.m. Why was I awake? There was nowhere… Laid off