Harsh Times by Lesley Whyte

It was just so unexpected, really. I mean, I can't believe he'd do that to me. What kind of father just cuts up your credit cards? I know things have been difficult since he lost his job, but really, what am I supposed to do now? He told me to get a job. A job. Can you believe that? He doesn't even have a job and now he expects me to get one.

Watermelon Sunrise, please.

He says I'm going to have to start paying my own rent, that I'll probably have to find a cheaper place to live. He wants me to leave my home. I've had to sell everything. Everything. My car, my jewellery, my couture. It's barbaric. This is the last luxury I have left, getting my nails done. Who knows when I'll be able to afford it again? I might have to start painting my own. I mean, can you imagine? What kind of lawless heathen actually paints nails?

Oh, no offence, Mara.

Harsh Times by Carolyn Glass

I’m sorry, Miss Jones, but the only option is redundancy, business is down and we simply have to cut costs, and our biggest expense is salaries. No, I wasn’t aware that you were getting married next month or that you’ve just taken out a hefty mortgage based on your current salary here. 

Well, we all have to make sacrifices, I’ve had to forgo replacing my Jaguar this year, and I’ll have to holiday in Europe rather than my usual 6 weeks in the States this summer. Please stop making a scene, the customers will think there is a problem. Perhaps it would be better if you left now rather than working out your notice, don’t worry, I’ll deduct the rest of the month’s salary from your final pay cheque, don’t let the door hit you on your way out.

Day Thirteen

And today's prompt is...

Harsh Times