Two construction workers meet on the bus to work for the first time. It’s Monday, 9pm. They work the night shift.

One of the construction workers had just returned from a vacation, though not a good one, whilst the other is resuming the daily grind. This is the first time they’ve acquainted themselves to each other. John, prepared to start work again, starts the conversation.

They exchange awkward introductions but soon, quite naturally, fall into a good rapport, trading their distaste for the current management. The tyrannical supers, they call them.

His shift starts four hours past midnight which is far too late for the last bus out of town. Thus, having his appeal for a change rejected countless times, John is bound to waste four hours doing nothing, exhausting both his and the company’s time.

“This job will be the death of me.” He said, starting to feel the weight of his prolonged exhaustive labor.

His newfound friend encouragingly suggested to John to appeal to the head office, by mail or, maybe, in-person. Skip the super.

John chuckled, lightly entertaining the idea in his head. But, after a couple moments of deeper thought, he came to a realization. “I SHOULD talk to the head office.”

“Yes!” His friend rallied. “You deserve it.”

They both agreed.

“Tonight,” John announced. “I’ll do it tonight. The head supers are up on the top floor, discussing blueprints for the new building. I’ll bring it to their attention then.”

After wishing the other the best of luck, they split off to their respective designated areas, one to the newer, western construction site and the other to the near-finished, eastern building. Both buildings were being built, side by side, separated by a wide, open ditch. They agreed to meet up at the break to discuss the results of his proposal.

The night was dark, but the work site was sprinkled with harsh, bright lights. Some were stationary, illuminating the concrete pillars and the plain, gray walls, while others swept about as the workers continued their work on the bottom floor. Large cylinders of stone were being lifted by cables and cranes and then guided by the rough, hardened gloves into their ordained slots in the floor. Everything moved steadily and slowly, as it should be.

Well, they need to be to offset the cuts to safety equipment the supers been dealing out over the past few years. With the new management, they’ve gotten quite extreme with their ignorance. He’s surprised no one has gotten injured for the past five years since they’ve taken over. Lucky break for them I guess. Sooner or later, someone’s gonna sue them.

Across the central divide, a blue fluorescent light can be seen through the full glass windows on the top floor of the eastern building. The higher ups were up there, plotting the new courses of action. He could see the dark shadows from below, walking about in ties and suits. He hopes his friend is doing well up there.

Soon enough, the time came, and he waited at the planned rendezvous eager to hear the outcome of the endeavour. But his friend John never showed up. As quickly as it came, break was over and it was back to the grind…

~=~=~

The two construction workers meet again on their way to work. It’s a little over 9pm, the next day.

This time, the other begins the conversation. The rather sudden introduction startled the rather groggy friend, but it is not an issue. They quickly return to form and share their opinions about the ongoing injustice of management. Lazy, ignorant supers.

John complains, four hours of wasted time. He could be at home, catching some more sleep or spending that time with family.

“Yea, that’s right.” His friend feigned remembering. He has not forgotten the highly-anticipated news. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I’ve appealed four times and nothing happened.”

“To the suits?”

John chuckled. “The suits? Might as well fire me now for going over a super.”

But he thinks. And like the previous night before, John concurs. “You know what. I will.”

“Again?”

“I’m not going through my super again. This time I’m going to the top.”

This caused some confusion. “You told me you were going up yesterday. I was waiting for you in the breakroom.”

John too seemed confused by the odd circumstance. “Yesterday? But I just got back…” He checks his watch. “It’s Thursday? Damn, my bad. Time flew by I guess.”

“Hey, you feeling alright?”

“I guess— I don’t know. The time off didn’t really do much for me. I feel pretty drained. And add on this damn useless block of four hours— I’m going up there. Tonight.”

“You want me to come with you?” He offered, concerned.

“No, you gotta get to work. I can handle this one.”

And they split off to their separate ways. However, the friend, instead of going to work, turned around and tried to catch up to his fellow worker, who is already on the elevator up the building. He wants to make sure his friend got his voice rightfully heard.

The work on the eastern building has more or less finished. And, consequently, there was nearly no one walking about. Those that remained seemed to be taking a nap on the ground. Lights were turned off in many areas and even some tools laid bare and untouched. Until a final cleanup sweep, this is not uncommon to come across. Plus the lack of proper facilities provided by those stingy supers were more than likely to blame. Not even chairs to sleep on, those bastards.

He continued and followed his friend, taking the second elevator up.

Ding. He stepped out. Looking into the darkness, he suddenly found his friend held up by the collar by one of the suits.

“Hey!” He yelled. “Get your hands off him! I’m calling the police!” He reaches into his back pocket and tries to fish out his phone. And just as his last word echoed through the empty room, all thirteen faces turn towards him. The woman, holding John up, without a second thought, flung him out the open window. His friend fell.

Eyes wide in horror, his body froze. His eyes locked on the rows of smiling white teeth shining in the blue fluorescent light. They were looking at him. He was next.

A distant— THUD!

“Ah, you too?” One of them smirked.

Another two approached.

“Woah, woah! What are you— get off me!”

They each grabbed him by the arms and dragged him. He struggled to free himself, as hard as he could. But his demise resumed, foot by foot, until he is finally at the edge of the open window. He could see down the building, the splattered mess of his friend down below.

“Get back to work.”

And he is tossed out the window.

~=~=~

The next morning, the higher ups have finished their plans and left. The eastern building was deemed inadequate and flagged to be demolished in favor of a new southern building instead. The clients didn’t like the casted shadow from the other building.

As for the two bodies that decorated the ground, they had left. The blood had been cleaned away, and the general garbage and miscellaneous disorganization remained untouched. No one noticed the cleaning crew that arrived later that night. Work continued.

But, around 9pm on Friday, the next night, on the final bus out of town, two construction workers engage in an awkward introduction. They had both just recently returned from a two-week vacation sanctioned by the corporate office. It was for their health, the suits had said. The job was quite demanding of their bodies. Even so, they didn’t feel well-rested. They felt exhausted.

Instinctually, they dove deep into conversation about their mutual dislike for their supervisors. Cheap, complacent supers.

The End.