Casual Work

Jason cursed to himself as he saw the figure that glowed back at him from the cash register display. He handed over the last of his money and with a pang of melancholy took his groceries. On the notice board next to the exit, he saw an advert, “Casual Work – Cash in Hand – Must Like Rabbits. If interested, please take (address on rear)!” He took the paper and scrunched it into his pocket.

Checking the address a final time, he trusted his Sat Nav got it right. He turned off the engine and exited the vehicle. He rang the bell of the farmhouse and waited, looking around at the miles of emptiness in all directions. “Ah, come on in,” said the old man in a strained voice, he beckoned Jason into his house, holding his back, obviously in some sort of pain, he continued, “Follow me.”

Jason stood in the middle of the room, he stared at the wall of cages, hundreds of hungry eyes looked back at him. “So, do I just feed them?” he asked. “Something like that,” the man said, as Jason heard the door behind him click shut and the sound of sixty cages swing open.

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