The water ran slowly across his smooth skin, Taken the chunks with it. His bloodstained robe hung on the door, dripping with another dose of children's entrails. He breathed deeply. He couldn't keep this up. He needed a new job. Two children, it had been. And no sign of sickness. Died in the same, uncaring, brutal manner.
Why? What was the point? Did the powers above simply decide it? And why in such a way? Was it just some sick joke? Did they not care for the janitors? Why? What? How? So many questions, so few answers.
He got out of the shower, dried off, and stood there. Still. Staring at his old robe. Was it worth it? The paycheck? Could he keep his sanity long enough for retirement? He grabbed the robe and threw in the trashcan. He was done.
"Tomorrow I will resign. As of now, I am no longer a doctor.". He felt a weight be pried off his shoulders, violently, but satisfyingly. Where was he going to go? No one knew. But he was free. Free to go be shackled by some other miserable full time job. Life truly is awful, huh? "God, I want to be sixty years old..."
