As I walked outside the building with what was the last of my belongings, Danny ran up to me as he shouted my name. He leans in and says “one last word Muriel”. I looked at the man who was my favorite colleague with a compound of emotions. His hand on my shoulder was warm yet it increased the heat in me- that heat of anger. ” oh he wants to play comforter” I thought to myself. “Go on” I said with an undertone of rage.

Without any particular emotion and dead eyes staring into my soul, he uttered “never be under pressure to be the good guy” and left abruptly. Confused myself, I left.

I had always known Danny to be cool, calm and wise in speech. But this was a record. I had always been intellectually sound for Danny’s words not to be a mystery to me but this was beyond intellect, this was soul, this was wisdom. Was it a code? A cipher? Words of consolation? “Go to hell” I thought to myself amusingly. Whatever Danny meant to pass across was weightier on me than the loss of my job.

Life goes on and any moment now, voices would begin to rise like men rising up from their beds in the morning to attend the business of the day. But that business would have no respect for mine. That business was me.

Things will never be the same again. How could I have been thrown out of a job where I was a top guy and I commanded the spotlight? What will be thought and said of me? How can I face Agnes when we meet unexpectedly at a restaurant. This was a mess. I was there and I was a good guy- so it must remain. Oh, before you judge me, who doesn’t care about their reputation and public image? I would be a hypocrite to claim that I do not care about the rumours that might have taken off from the runway. The runway and airspace of the rumour-crafts were always busy and my head failed to calculate what crafts where carrying my business. I couldn’t take down those crafts, I have to introduce mine to contend for space and keep everyone busy. I just need the perfect launchpad- a gossip carrier, someone who takes the passage of information as a personal business and hobby. I needed an Angel Gabriel who was willing to go break the news to a Virgin Mary. An Angel Gabriel of the rumour space. I smile because someone comes to mind. Better, I know where to find them. Game on!

It is a sunny Wednesday afternoon in December and everywhere breathes Christmas. Merry Christmas rumour-space, a guest is on its way.

Coffee central loved their customers and knew how to keep them coming. Angel Gabriel loved them too. Well positioned with my piece of bread and brilliant cup of tea, the angel gives me a tap on my shoulder. Am I surprised? No! Yet I turn with a faked surprise smile and say “hey Walter, good to see you” and to his companion I say “there you are Emilia, looking bright as always” “You guys sit” I said as I pointed to the chairs at the table.

“How are you holding up Mur?” Emilia asked with the slight tilting of her head and care in her soothing voice. “Doing well” I replied with the involuntary head bump (just used to the sympathy drill). “What really happened Mur?” Angel Gabriel had swooped in with his wings without letting time waste. He was ready to carry my message. To understand how happy this question made me, there has to be a slight shift in the setting.

I stepped into my imagination palace and this was the scene Walter’s question had created in my mind.

‘I was wearing an expensive suit with a silk bow tie with a wine glass containing the best wine in my hand. The moment was near for my launch. The time for me to lay legitimate claim to Rumour-space. The time for me to control what travels. This was my story, first of its kind. My Rumour-craft wasn’t just created to contend or derail, it was made to destroy.

The staff of my launch team where waiting outside with cameras and journalists awaiting me to step in and push the big red button. As I stepped out in my glistening tuxedo, my followers and spectators watching in awe of this moment, a moment of altering personal history with the push of a big red button, I revelled in the admiration. It was glorious. The Rumour-craft was brightly colored pink, fascinating to the young and old, a rumour that would interest mankind and shift things in the market. A brilliantly put together lie. It was a lie, but it was beautiful.

As I am about to push that button amidst cheers and cries of glory, there is a grip on my wrist and a voice in my ear. I knew the voice and the words it would utter- “Never be under pressure to be the good guy”. ” But this is my moment to have things my way” I said with pain like a man robbed of justice.’

I stepped out of my imagination palace quickly enough to realise that this moment with Walter my dear Angel Gabriel was what Danny had prepared me for. The cipher had been broken, the code interpreted and laid bare. The message was clear- IF I WAS EVER UNDER PRESSURE TO BE THE GOOD GUY, THEN I WAS NEVER THE GOOD GUY.

“Nothing to tell there Walt, everything is good”

THE END