It was the fiftieth anniversary of the day he started working. Only he remembered.
He had aspired to greatness. He wanted to become a CEO. Of what, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. He simply wanted to be in charge of something big, make a big mark, have people look up to him.
What a foolish dream. In 50 years, he had accomplished nothing of note and had so many low-paying jobs that he was still working.
He watched the rain fall. The forecast had called for sunshine.
From: Friday Flash Fiction