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Page 52 text:
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Page 53 text:
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THE BEAUTY OF LONELINESS? In conversation, I have felt alone. Yet in soliloquy, strangely surrounded. I have been touched deeply by pain, while among friends. And yet, have rejoiced in the sweetness of solitude. What folly is this? I speak not of madness my friend, but of truth. For true loneliness is a desire. A desire for intimacy once shared, but relieved by absence Which fades the memory. There is a sadness, however, far greater than that of which I speak. The sadness of those who cannot feel loneliness. A. Halliday SWEET VENGEANCE The air-conditioning hummed persistently overhead, typewriters clattered their in- terminable staccato all around him, but Henry Tibbins noticed none of it. Deep within his in- scrutable facade he was shrieking silently in the triumph, pounding himself on the back in congratulations and squirming, just a touch, in apprehension of what repercussions might result from his actions. Two days before, Tibbins had come across a stack of executive memo pads and a rubber stamp of the president ' s signature tacked away in one of the hun- dreds of files in the mailroom, the only room where he was boss, (for even at home he was com- pletely dominated by Martha). At first the discovery had seemed to be of minor importance and then, as his cramped imagination loosened its bonds slightly, the full power with which fate had entrusted him became apparent. Tentatively he tried his new wings by sending a short memo to maintenance, commenting on the fact that certain employee washrooms, the mailroom one, for example, were generally in an unsanitary and unsafe condition. Today, just two days later, the washroom sparkled with a cleanliness it had never known before and there was toilet paper in every cubicle! What power! As the weeks wore on, he developed an instinctive feel for the language and nuances of the executive memo. Life slowly got better for all the mailroom workers, breaks were extended, water coolers and coffee machines were installed, wages were increased and hours shor- tened. Tibbins even got himself a new office and even a pretty, young secretary who wiggled at him (something Martha had never done). In short, everything was just per- fect until that sultry afternoon six months after the great discovery (as he was wont to call it) when he received a memo himself from the personnel vice-presideni commanding his appearance at Slightly tense but still confident, Henry waited outside the office. When he was called in, however, he received, instead of the congratulatory smile he had ex- pected, a look of an indisputably spiteful nature. For three- quarters of one hour, he was harangued by his superior on the dangers of crossing an executive. It seemed that this particular vice-president had received a considerable amount of unpleasant feedback from his colleagues as a result of the ob- vious special interest of the Big Boss in one of his subordinates, Tibbins by name, and so, to relieve himself of this em- barassement, Tibbins was being transferred to the North Dakota office where he would be no longer troublesome. Henry Tibbins was thunderstruck, the whole thing had fallen apart, he was ruined. Like a broken man he returned to his office to clean out his desk. As he did so, just the hint of an idea spread through his subconcious and by the time he left the building, that idea had grown into a self- satisfied smile as he thought of the last memo he had left in the internal mail basket: FROM: THE OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT RE: PERSONNEL JEALOUSY It has regretfully come to my at- tention that certain of you have been engaging yourselves in a private conflict concerning my attitude towards certain minor department chiefs. If the gen- tleman in question has not sub- mitted his resignation by noon tomorrow, I will be forced to take less confidential action. Needless to say, such things cannot be allowed to continue . . Edward Dickens
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