The Day I Left the Warehouse

I didn't mean to leave. I want that on the record. I was having a perfectly normal day — well, as normal as a day can be when you're a sheep operating heavy machinery in a building that smells like cardboard and someone's divorce.

The soda can was the problem. It was just sitting there in Aisle 4, half-full, looking smug. I swerved. The potatoes didn't swerve with me. And then physics happened.

Dave started shouting. Dave always starts shouting. I looked at the exit. I looked at the mess. I looked at the exit again.

I chose the exit.

The forklift hit the car park doing fifteen. A man on a bicycle just... stopped pedalling and watched me go past. I waved a hoof. "Sorry! Work emergency!" I said, which was technically true.

I haven't been back since. I should probably call in sick.