I did this for the first time last week, and enjoyed it a lot.
Last Wednesday's words were:
crystallize
morbid
fragrance
cling
instant
blueprint
Here is my contribution.
In those dying days Alan took calls from a hundred desperate
clients. They rang at all hours, in a
panic, some weeping. There were others he
called, who were unable to make a decision, silent on the other end of the phone
in their shock. Some were still strategizing, taking a hit here or there to crystallize a loss for a write-off, or scanning value stocks with a buyer’s eye even as
everything went to hell. In the office things were frantic for a couple of
weeks, and then quiet, as the money ran out and the phones stopped ringing. Some
of the advisers took a holiday, or stayed home. But Alan was salaried and
anyway had nowhere to go. So he stayed at his terminal, watching the lines of
red numbers with morbid, daily obsession.
There were moments, even days, where things seemed to pick
up, as a few stocks bounced up from rock-bottom and the market pounced. When
these bounces lasted more than a day, the office became vibrant. Even though everyone
knew it was nothing it was good to be busy; good to remember the excitement and
the happiness from past times – the sweet fragrance of wealth. It was easy to cling to that buzz and that
hope, and everyone did.
Alan was young and had missed the bull market. “You’ll catch
the next one,” they told him. They even said his timing was perfect because he
was building up clients and knowledge right now, and when the market took off –
as it would, finally – he’d be in on the ground floor.
But meantime the perks were all gone. The cars, the lunches,
the drinks, the gym memberships, the couriers and the dry cleaning – not to
mention the cash bonuses. All gone. They were never coming back, everyone said. Of course, they probably would, eventually. Just
not to this generation.
Companies struggled not to sink and withheld that truth from
their staff. All over the city, companies sank or merged or were bought out,
and people lost their jobs. Alan had no idea how his company was faring. No one
did, either inside or outside the dealing room. Internal communications insisted all was well. Prospects were good, said the
emails, and the company’s strengths and market share were keeping them in the
black even as others sank around them. Things were tight, no question – and it
was true that some serious cuts would need to be made. But if everyone stayed focused and kept doing what they were doing, then the company would continue
to do well, buoyed by its greatest asset: its people.
The communications never mentioned the company’s balance
sheet. They were light on detail and never included a specific dollar amount, target
figure, future date or indeed any number of any kind. They were all words –
words and no numbers. In an industry which was usually, proudly, all numbers
and formulae, someone had changed the language.
Outside the dealing room and away from the numbers, priorities
had changed in an instant. Gone without mention were the old roadmaps, goal sheets and mission
statements. The policies and procedures page kept moving on the intranet, and
whole sections were gone. The only direction now was to survive. The blueprint
was secret.
Wow. This is fascinating. Poor Alan. Too little, too late.
ReplyDeleteThank you! (I've reminded myself of Prue and Trude's Stockbrokers Charity Ball from Kath and Kim!)
DeleteWow...you took those words and ran with them. Great job... your story felt so real..so today. Welcome to the weekly fun.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much for those lovely words!
DeleteA very good story. I've never understood stock markets and shares and stuff, but I imagine there'd be a lot of secrecy surrounding it, or at least it would seem that way to those not "in the know".
ReplyDeleteThanks River. Yes from the outside it all seems impenetrable and like another language. But I think these days every large corporate industry is secretive and sneaky...
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