*Fifteen years ago, the only light we had was from an oil lamp older than my mother. She says it’s a hand-me-down from Gramps. I vividly remember the flicker of its ageing wick when I saw the candles that surrounded me. “Not again.” If not for the much needed lay-off this would have not occurred. I am one of the unfortunate workers who lost their job because the factory had to fire some workers to prevent further financial damage. I felt the world crumble when I heard my name being called.

     Things had been going well for the longest time until that fateful Thursday. All I received was comfort from m colleagues, the separation pay just enough. Five days after, I found myself in this dark haven trying to console myself. The phone rang.

“I’ve heard what happened. Why don’t you take it as a sign?”

“You know I wouldn’t.”

“What else do you want to happen to you? Everyone has been okay here.”

“I know. But you know I don’t want to leave.”

“Because you felt you still have something to do? I’m getting tired of your heroic plans Mark. But as your sister, I’m not going to pull out the offer. You can just call when you feel like leaving.”

“Oh, all right. Thanks.”

I don’t know. I have been into conversations like this. The offer to live in the Big Apple had been laid out to me for three years now. I’m the only one left here. They all have moved three years ago. At times, I feel like packing my things and leave. But I can’t. I know there’s something I still need to do. I can’t leave just yet.

Not now.

 *Throwback thursday post. circa 2011. 


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