He awaits his orders, the next set of tasks handled to him before he can take a break. The once bright red now dull and faded into its old age to display the usefulness it has provided its owner with, tucked neatly above and under a pair of well-strapped black pants. The lifeless color that lies against his chest, a clear rendering of the position he is to never escape from no matter how hard he works in this hierarchy he calls a job. Knowing this, he continues to place items within thin plastic, always awaiting orders. Always awaiting orders.
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