Jack Harrison was surprised a letter waiting for him on his desk when he arrived at work. Before it, he hung up his coat and took out his glasses.

'Dear Mr Harrison,' he read, 'We are sorry you that your services are no longer required...'

He could not believe it. After for the company for thirty years, he had been made redundant, one Monday morning, without warned in any way at all.
There was no point the letter. The ending was obvious. 'Thank you for your loyalty and dedication over the years, and we hope you will enjoy more time to spend...'

The company wanted to go away quietly and enjoy his premature retirement. He was fifty-three. How could he find another job at his age? He knew that firms were not interested people over fourty-five, let alone over fifty. Could he still afford his daughters to their expensive school?
He sat back in his chair and looked out of the window, wondering next. He decided the office as soon as possible. He did not want to see him while he felt so depressed. So he put on his coat and for the last time closed the office door behind him. He stopped 'goodbye' to the telephonist, whom he had known for years, and left the building

Out in the street, it had begun . He had forgotten his umbrella that morning, so he turned up his overcoat collar and walked towards the station his train home. He didn't know what to his wife. The thought of breaking the news to her feel sick.