Terry Buchanan

It was rapidly approaching, the big day, end of an era, the gold watch, his retirement. For forty years he had subserviently manned the haberdashery; socks, ties, collars, handkerchiefs. Disdainful customers would have had the shirt off of his back if he had turned it for a second. The boring monotony of an uneventful life. Do I exist, he asked himself, as he pinched his ear lobe, seeking reassurance.