The Death of Donoghue

His office seemed a lot smaller as the weight of the words hit him. Sure, it was normal to get a letter at work but the contents of this particular note left Michael Donoghue with dread. At age 60 with a bad liver and so much debt, it didn’t take much to drive him off the edge into a fit of paranoia. Once again, Michael looked at the letter in his hand; A plain white sheet of thick paper with carefully hand carved words written on it.  It had no return address and no one else in the office seemed to remember seeing a postman deliver it to his plush corner office. He couldn’t sit still and began pacing across the office, trying to narrow down the list of people who would want him dead. 

“Well, It’s not that hard to deduce” he thought aloud to himself “With the amount of debt I’m in, the list goes  from top ranking executives all the way  to the banks”

It didn’t occur to him that maybe some poor lifestyle choices had got him here. Perhaps he shouldn’t have fired the doorman for not greeting him, knowing fully well that the guy’s kid had cancer. Perhaps he shouldn’t have berated the engineering department after he lost the AC remote and couldn’t get a new one. Maybe he could have been nicer to the executives from rival companies looking for a merger. No. For all he cared, Michael Donoghue was the pinnacle of goodwill and everyone else was wrong. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear his secretary at the door until she had begun banging it. He was already furious and decided to tell her off

“Get in here, Susan”

A lovely red head in a beautiful blue gown and flat shoes stepped in. Susan, who had been his secretary for some 20 odd years had never once spoken a bad word about her boss. He was certain she was the only one in the entire building. Didn’t matter, though

“I take it you forgot how to knock?” Michael asked with impatience in his voice

If she was affected by his words, she didn’t show it “I just wanted to know if you’d like your coffee now, sir”

He relaxed because she seemed to still care what happened to him. His one star in a dark world “Sure. Why not”

 After drinking the cappuccino mix, he stood up and headed out of the office, prepared to get to be bottom of this 

“But sir…” Susan called after him “you have a meeting with…”

“Look, Susie” He only called her “Susie" when he wanted her to do something 

uncomfortable “Hold all my calls till I get back. If anyone asks, tell them I’m busy”

She looked like she wanted to protest but she bit back the words “Yes, Mr. Michael” 

With that, she was gone to her cubicle

Michael raced to the elevator and was he got to the ground floor, he was out of the building…then it was over. It took him a few moments to realize his legs had dropped from under him and he was blacking out, he couldn’t breath and kept clawing for air. People gathered around him but no one knew what to do. He was as confused as they were but just before he dies, Michael knew who sent the letter and he shed a tear. 

When the ambulance men were checking his personal effects, they saw a letter in the pocket of his $500 winter coat. It had simple words;

Dear Michael,

Goodbye.

With love, Susie