Thorns

He’d been paid a lifetime’s worth of good fortune, but there’s always danger of having too much time. He’s already forgotten what it’s like to work honestly, and thinks the word “retirement” automatically means he can pass judgement on other people’s work.

In a world that’s perfect, the scale would always be balanced, each man giving and thus receiving a proportional amount of good for the good they do and bad for the bad they do. In a world that doesn’t exist, he would have had a fair employer, and everything would stay in harmony; balanced, the same.

On the scales that don’t exist, there’s no limit to how far he can fall, and so he falls freely without worrying about what’s at the bottom.

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