Banking

Photo by Ashkan Forouzani on Unsplash 

I always knew what I was going to do when I grew up.  And now that I’m here, I’m not sure I made the right decision.  I always thought I wanted to work in banking because my entire family worked in banking.  It was the safe route.  The route I knew.  The route I understood.  But now, at twenty-five years old and on the edge of having everything I ever wanted, I knew banking wasn’t for me.  Every day I spent staring at a computer screen was another day wasted.  My eyes and my headaches were longing for the fresh air and sunshine. 

I knew I had to get out, but wondered how and wondered where I would go.  I knew what my family expected of me and I knew what would happen if I left the family tradition.  If I left banking, I knew I would be the disgrace of the family.  I stared out the window in my expansive office and wondered how much longer I should (or could) stay around.  What I really wanted was to spend the rest of my time hunting the supernatural.  I knew ghosts and fairies lived among us, I just needed the proof.   If I could somehow get myself put on the short list for the next round of severance pay, I could leave with enough money and paid time to follow my goals of proving ghosts were real.  I knew exactly who I needed to con.