Winter of Discontent

He’d pinned back the boss’s ear for much of the evening. I had a sense that it was about me – at least, in part.

There were a few of them, you see. And I’d fallen foul.

I didn’t much like the way they broke and changed the rules as it suited, and I’d spoken up - the once.

Harangued for two years, misrepresented, every contribution and achievement undermined. Played down. Cancelled out.
Discussions in my absence – naturally.

Despite that, I’d done well. Maybe, too well?

How rudely they speak to me is appalling.

How much longer will I endure?