The factory closed on a Tuesday. Jack knew this because Tuesday was always pay day, and when the foreman walked the floor with a clipboard and a face like wet concrete, you knew something was wrong.
"Effective immediately," the foreman said. He didn't look Jack in the eye. Nobody did. "All operations suspended indefinitely. Collect your things." Jack stood in the middle of the assembly line, his hands still wrapped around the wrench he had been using for twelve years. The wrench was warm from his grip. He set it down on the workbench next to him, next to the other tools that would never be...
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