This is your reality, so face it, said the man pulling out the paper with a simple line that kindly tells me the manager regrets and wishes me all the best. I, now a 33 years old job-tired man had expected to recieve bits of cash as I walk out of the office that I worked around the clock for the last dicade, for good this time. I did not apply for anything but simply dedicated myself to the company, and in that sense, you may well call me a slave, a simple, mindless slave of his profession. Walking out of the office, I head to the city centre with heart filled with emptyness. Pedestrians appear busy, reminding me that it wasn't a holiday. A man starts making a call to his customer (I presumed). Then, all so suddenly,without any sign, fear grew in my heart. Ah, now I am jobless.