Marlene came out the back door with a black trash bag and waved at me through the windshield.

“Why would you write me a letter?” I asked.

“Because I’m not a monster, Christopher.

I’m a businessman who had a bad morning.”

“You fired me at nine forty-five.”

“And you can be rehired somewhere better by Monday.” He said it like he was offering me a coupon.

“The letter goes out today if you sign by three.”

I watched Marlene drag the bag to the dumpster and lift the lid with her hip.