We can no longer look at this optimistically. Mike said. It’s falling apart. All around us.  Pieces, the foundation, all that we put into this is being torn down. He stirred his coffee. The waitress came over and filled his cup. In time, everything collapses. Buildings, three hundred years old, fall apart. Bridges bend. Sidewalks crack. Get it?

Yes. Tom said. This isn’t going to last. The end of an era. He motioned to the waitress. You’re right. Things fall apart. Relationships destroyed. Businesses made by men, taken down. And for what reason. Spite? A torn apart love affair with the secretary? He held up his hand for her to stop pouring coffee. Sugar packets on the table. Creamers tossed aside. It’s coming, Mike. You’re right. But then again, I’ve never doubted your word.

Mike smiled. When do you think he’ll pull the plug?

Not sure. Soon. He’ll pull it soon. Tom looked at his watch. Checked a small calendar in his pocket. December. It’s Christmas time. He wouldn’t do it now. Would he?

Stockholders. Board members.  Accounts to be closed. ASAP, I say. Stick the knife in. Let the blood flow already. Mike took out a pack of Newports and offered Tom one. The two men lit up. And I tell you this. There will be nothing left. It will  not exist. New owners? They want their own people in there. We’re seen as old hat. Men who can be tossed aside.

Right.

Until then, we wait it out, Mike told him. I don’t know. Maybe Florida.

Do you have money for Florida? Sure. As soon as my wife dies. Another end of an era. Tom looked behind his back. It’s not the worst thing that could happen.

This is your wife, Tom.

So be it. The cancer is spreading.  She wants to die. Who am I to stand in her way? Mike asked. Do you know how many people make a fortune off insurance? It’s the least she could do. He drew in smoke and blew it out. I’ve been there for her. Right? Die now, I say.  So long.

I’ll pray for your soul, Mike. Tom told his partner. I’ll pray for your soul.

You’d wish for the same.

I don’t know. Hard to say. You come into this world, and you leave it behind. Hopefully, we give something to the next generation. Tom put out his cigarette. 

Fuck them.

Yes. Fuck them indeed. I hope you get what you want, Mike.

One way or another. We all do.