The Second Job

The Second Job

It was already dark when Jesse got home from his first job. He had just enough time to change clothes, and get ready to go to his second job. The voices started immediately. They begged him to stay home. But it was his choice. He worked alone, so he was the boss. And even though the second job didn’t pay, except in satisfaction, he had to go.

He pulled on his black cap and tugged the flaps down over his ears. Looking in the mirror, he spread camouflage stage makeup on his cheeks. Translucent faces began to collect in the mirror behind his own image, their expressions strained and distorted. Their cries joined the angry voices, and pleaded with him to stay.

“No,” he said, “I have to go. So you can all stop your moaning.”

On the way toward the door, he stopped and opened the hall closet. He took out his overcoat and a large knife, still bloody from the night before. The voices cried loudly.

“I have to go, and by morning there’ll be one more joining you,” he said to the voices. And he left for his second job.