EIGHTY-THREE

There was no coffee left in the pot. Not good. There were only the dregs, the unwanted coffee grounds that would never be fully consumed — and rightly so.

In those dregs he saw himself, a lower end of the totem pole kind of guy in the office. But like everyone else, he could see, on the horizon, the path to a better position.

But right now, Chris had to only worry about brewing a new pot of coffee to fill his boss’s mug.

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