The Job That Kills Us?

I cut the power. The light on the device quit flashing. I let out a relieved groan. I didn't want to have to find a new apartment. Again. I liked this place and the landlord wasn't one to ask too many questions. It's not like it matters much anyways. When I get back, if I get back, I'll be moving anyways. Somewhere nice, with a pool and an actual garage. So I took the homemade hazard and put it into my bag. It may come in handy while in Greece. I still couldn't believe we were doing something this big, but I figured we had the experience. And it was worth the reward. Definitely worth it. I finished packing and walked out. As I left the building, I wondered what I needed to blast through this time. How big a boom would I have to make? I was more concerned with buying the supplies I would need once I was there. It will be nice to see everyone again, too. As long as this isn't the job that kills us.

The End

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