I’ll never forget the stories Grandpa used to tell about working in the steel mill. The labor was hard, but the wizards paid well: two hundred hours a week. He lived to the old age of seventy-four.
Pa griped about his work a lot. He started out in Grandpa’s mill as a laborer, worked up the ladder, and was eventually promoted to foreman. Even then, he only earned one hundred and eighty hours. He passed at sixty-seven.
I got a call from my boss last night. I’m going to need a second job if I want to exist until retirement.
Author’s Note: The concept of wizards selling time enthralled me. I was especially interested in how it would relate to an economic depression
It would really take care of over population if the length of your life was determined by how many hours you worked.
Yeah, especially if it was balanced specifically for that purpose.
Getting paid in hours per week is indeed an interesting concept. Nicely done.
Ooh, Patrick. Very interesting—and sobering—concept. Wonderful writing too.
Thank you!