Prompt: Write a story or poem about an employee that just got fired. It can be from the employee or the employer perspective.
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Vinod sat in his car and thought about dying. Simple, he thought. Much simpler than what he had to face.
The engine of his nine-year-old Toyota chugged and spluttered, rocking the whole metal frame even though the car was crouched idle. He barely felt the air conditioning, and it was at its maximum strength. His wife Shanti kept on nagging him to buy a new car, something like their neighbor’s Proton Persona, sleek and sporty, and Malaysian-made. Vinod wasn’t against local products, but he had his eyes on a Mercedes Benz for the longest time. His uncle Shanker drove one, a white E200. How the rest of the family envied the old man for being able to afford the money-drain. But not Vinod. He was closer to his eccentric, single uncle more than he did his parents. Uncle Shanker always let him drive around in his car while he sat at the passenger seat, smoking his cigar.
Vinod shook his head to banish the idle thought. He would never be able to afford a Mercedes Benz, and after what happened today, he couldn’t afford a Persona even if he traded in this hunk of scrap metal. He thought about his wife. She would be in the kitchen right now, hands white with flour as she kneaded dough to make chapatti for dinner. Seeing her in the kitchen was always a welcome sight. Her waist had grown much thicker than when he first met her thirty years ago, and there were wrinkles on her face and white in her hair, but she was still the light of his life. And he could not bear to enter the house, to face her bearing the bad news. He couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on her face.