How Johnathan Ridgewell III Lost His Job

As John typed his left ring finger went suddenly limp. He stopped for a second and tried to open and close his hands, but the finger refused to cooperate. He began to sweat.

“Now?! NOW?!” he whispered in a panic breath. The report was due before the end of the day. He took a deep breath and started typing again working around the dead finger. It was slower work, but he thought he would make it. At least until he saw the blood dripping on to the keyboard.

“Dammit!” he cursed way too loud. Heather at the desk next to him looked up at him. He smiled apologetically as he wrapped his hand in tissues.

By the time he made it to the bathroom, the tissues were nearly soaked through. He slowly unwrapped his hand in over the center sink. The ring finger dropped from the bloody tissues and rolled down the edge of the sink leaving a red trail. John watched it, unbelieving and not knowing what to do.

A laugh broke out from behind him and he recognized it instantly. It was Chris, the golden accountant. He slapped John on the shoulder and laughed again. John felt sick.

“Jesus Johnnie boy. Are you really just now losing your baby fingers? And with the year end reports due too. Tsk tsk tsk.”

Paul simply stared at the small nub slowly growing through the meat where the ring finger had pulled out.