Dispatch from an advertising future #78


“An opportunity”: that’s what she’d said as she wearily handed out another redundancy notice. Unlike most hearing that platitude, he’d not got angry; he’d dreamed. At last the chance to write. He looked at the others. Some in their fifties like him. Some just kids, All had their dreams: the novel, the poem, the musical, the film. In The Before, they’d never have had the time. Now, time space and pay: Zero hours but… His wristband buzzed. He turned back to the keyboard and wordcount. The only thing he’d have liked would be a window or two in the warehouse.