The Daily Grind

I sit and stare at the screen, almost daring it to crash on me, anything to make the time go faster so that I can leave this daily grind and go home or anywhere but here. I look up and around me and see everyone else in the same rut as me, casting furtive glances at the clock that hangs above us all, taunting us second by second as the hands slowly click on and on and on…

I twist my wrist around so that I can see my watch, just to make sure that the times are in sync, and unfortunately they are! My fingers start tapping at the keys on the keyboard as I try to finish my work. My mind starts to wonder away, concentration is all but lost to the forbidden dreams swirling around in my brain. I hear that voice, the one that tells me things, to do things and talks about the people around me, people I know, people that I don’t. My fingers continue to type but I begin to listen.

The murmurs get louder and my fingers type faster. I look around me at the drones, all sitting at their desks like me. Are they listening to their own inner voices too? I glance at Nancy at the next table, her fingers are flying over the keys but I can see her nodding away to some invisible voice and every so often a happy sigh emerges from her lips. I look to my other side and there sits Chris, he too is working away but he seems to be lost as I see tears running down his face and he is slowly shaking his head in denial.

My focus returns to the voice and I finally begin to understand what it wants me to do. I can see it is just and this is what I have wanted to do for years but never found the courage.

“You know the time has come, throw off this oppression and seize the day. Go to the kitchen, as if you just need a drink and go to the first drawer with the knives in it. Open it and you will find what you seek…”

I stand at my desk and stretch my arms above my head, no one is taking any notice of me, they are all stuck in their own worlds of endless boredom and tedious work. I push back my chair with the backs of my legs and walk away from my desk. I go to the kitchen, just as instructed and go to the drawer, the one that holds my salvation. I look inside and see that it is packed full of sharp butcher knives. I look around me and see a bag hanging on the back of the kitchen door, I grab it and unceremoniously dump the contents of it on the floor. I step back to the drawer and grab all the implements in it and fill my bag. I pick it back up and I can hear the musical chimes of all the knives that I have collected. I leave the kitchen and go back to the office.

At the doorway I stop and really look at everyone. I see sadness, despair but no hope on any of the faces. I drop the bag to the floor and everyone in the room turns and looks at me. I bend down and take out one of the kitchen knives. I brandish it above my head and my intention becomes clear to everyone in the room. They all push back their chairs and come to me as I pass out a weapon to each of them. There must be 30 of us all stood silently in the middle of the room and we all want to end this endless torture. It must end today, the voices that we have all been listening to tell us this and I DO believe that soothing voice.

I look at everyone around me and I feel so proud that we are a team, isn’t that what this company wanted us to be anyway, a team? I take a step towards to boardroom where a meeting of all the top directors and managers and even the team leaders is taking place. There have been rumours of the company closing its doors forever, huge payoffs for higher end staff and nothing for us, the backbone of the company, the people that have kept it running and making money for all these years. It was time to make our voices heard, above the corporate greed and uncaring.

As a group, we all silently advanced to that boardroom. All that could be heard was the soft shuffling of our shoes on the thick carpet. We reached the door but it was myself that pushed my hand forward and twisted that door handle. As the door opened we could all hear laughing going on as they ate from the luxury buffet that had been delivered earlier. They hadn’t noticed the intrusion yet and were talking as if their privacy was assured.

“Don’t worry, our own bonuses and redundancy packages are assured, trust me none of us will be hurting after we close this place…”

Finally, as I entered the room, the board members all turned to face us. The puzzlement was evident on the faces all around that huge oak table. Inwardly I was smiling but on the outside all they could see was rage. I was so angry, I wanted to vent my wrath on everyone around that table. How dare they give themselves huge payouts and forget us, the workers. Without us they wouldn’t get any money, didn’t they understand that? Well it was time to make them understand!

I stepped over to the Managing Director of the company and leant forward so I could talk to him face to face.

“Do you know who I am?” he looked at me blankly, with a pathetic dumb look on his face, “well, do you? I repeated.

He shook his head at me as speech seemed to have deserted him as all he could see was the huge knife I was waving in front of his face.

“I am your judgement, I am our salvation,” I waved my blade around me to include all my fellow workers “and it is time to pay the price…”

I slashed forward and sliced him across the face, opening his mouth up into a huge rictus of a smile. His hands shot up to try and keep his face together but it was a loosing battle as blood ran in rivers through his fingers. I thrust my blade forward again and parted the flesh of his neck. His eyes began to roll back into his head and the glorious flow of his lifeblood splashed me across the face. I blinked the blood from my eyes and turned to see what my fellow team were doing. All around me blades glinted as they sliced, slashed and diced the board members. I could hear death rattles and gasping from the fallen upper management. The attack had come so swiftly that most of them had not even been able to rise from their reclining chairs. The walls dripped blood from spurting arteries.

The deed was done, only one thing left now and we all knew our final grisly task. Each of us took a body and separated the head from the rest of it. This was no easy task, let me tell you. I had to saw through tissue and muscle and ligaments, tubes and other unmentionables. The hardest to get through was the bone, I jiggled the knife between the bones and slowly shifted the vertebrae until I could separate the two parts.

I held my trophy aloft and looked around me at my fellow workers, who all held their own trophies. At this moment we were the greatest team, we all had each others backs and would die and kill for each other. I felt pride that I was able to be included in this monumental uprising and I could feel the gore dripping from my body and knew everyone must be feeling the same thing.

As one we all threw our knives to the carpet, threw the severed heads onto the boardroom table and turned and exited the slaughter house.



  1. I loved this. So much here that resonates, I barely know how to begin. For someone who spent year after year trapped in the daily grind you speak of, I was right there beside you with blade aloft. Awesome description of the injury detail also, left me with blood on my hands and a huge smile spread across my face.

  2. I think many of us visited these thoughts. Where the mind wanders during a days work in the corporate zoo. This is well written and anyone could be in those shoes at any given time. Keep on writing. You’ve got this.

  3. Am I a bad person because I can completely envision myself leading the exact revolution in my former place of employment? The one which massively contributed to my mental breakdown? So glad I walked away when I did….Although…………LOL! I actually found myself cheering while reading this and I think I have read it at least 4 or 5 times now……Screw “the machine.” Now where’s that bag of knives? \m/
    Absolutely BRILLIANT! We slave away so they can afford their zillion dollar “trainings” aka retreats. I can’t tell you how strongly this one resonated…..

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