Kathryne Fairbrother

The Old Man

“Hurry up. Hurry up. Hurry up.” I repeated those words to myself numerous times as I raced down the street. The towering skyscrapers of New York loomed over me, only allowing thin streams of yellow sunlight to reach the crowded streets. I was late to my job as a personal assistant for the manager of a large computer company. If I was tardy again this week, I would be fired.