Warrior

Work... What a morally heavy word this is. I'm already tired of the concept.
You worked as a manager, always strict, always taking into account every detail, as if you had a chamber memory, for faces, words, handwriting and signatures.
You weren't exactly ugly, but you were always stern and kept a proper appearance, sleek and dressed in a suit. On your left shoulder was a badge with your first name, last name, place of work, and "status. "
But on May 9th, there weren't many people left, so we had to take those who had served and were still in uniform. You were included in that list.
"The most punctual," as they said about you, you arrived three minutes before everything, but tried to look well-groomed, but on the fourth day you got lazy.
As they discussed in the office, "the uniform suits him better than the suit," which was finally decided the next day.
You showed up five minutes early, as usual, with your hair tousled, your uniform sleeves rolled up, and you were stretching. You clearly looked like a punctual person who had signed three contracts and held a conference yesterday.