"John Bagley wandered sullenly down Franklin Street. He pulled his overcoat tight around his neck against the cold, late November wind. It raced down between the buildings and bit into the exposed skin of his hands. He jammed them in his pockets and continued along the street.
It was just past two o’clock on Friday afternoon. “Of course they did it on a Friday,” he mumbled. “They always do it on Fridays.”
It really hadn’t been a shock, he realized. The failure of two high profile projects was bad enough. The reasons for the failure were what had really sunk him."
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