Final Solution

Jack picked up his assault rifle, checked that it was loaded, put extra cartridges in his jacket pocket, tucked his Colt into his belt, and headed for the garage. Being fired, after losing half of his retirement benefits, was the final turn of the screw. “This is it! I canʼt take no more! Somebody has to pay!”

Driving through the blowing snow, on his way to the place he had worked more than half his lifetime, he ran through possibilities for his final confrontation. It wouldnʼt make sense to shoot just anyone he saw. Most of his fellow workers were in the same position he was, they had no control over their own lives or jobs or future. Bosses had the control. Supervisors had the power to decide to hire or to fire. No one was safe who depended on anotherʼs judgement to keep his job. They had killed his future, as surely as if they had sentenced him to a living death.

Pulling up in front of the factory, he slid into the bossʼs parking space. “Might as well be first in line.” As he got out of his car, he ran through his plan again, making sure there were no slip ups. He walked into the office area, and immediately saw the terror on Maryʼs face as she recognized the rifle. She reached for her phone to call security. “Oh, hell!” he swore, and began shooting.

Twenty minutes later, he saved the last bullet in his Colt for himself. He was dead, even if he was still breathing. This was his final solution.