A mistake

“Why are the translations on your machine, but they’re not on my test machine? Did you run the script from the installation directory?”

“No –“ I said, knowing full well what was about to come. Would I keep my job, I wondered. “I ran the scripts from the defect report. They should be the same.”

Arnold rolled his eyes and his voice went a tone lower. “You never directly run the scripts yourself, Thomas. You execute the binary against the test machine. Got it? Otherwise it’s an invalid test. You know better than that, my friend.”

At least he called me his friend, I can grab onto that – but would I keep my job, even if I was his friend?

“You’re right. I acted too fast, my mistake.”

“Well, most people pay for their mistakes,” Arnold said and walked out of the room. I could hear the clanking of his shoes on the tile beneath his feet, like the rhythm of a warrior’s drum. So what price would I pay for my mistake?

My mouth went dry, my heart raced, and I took the biggest poop of my life that afternoon. But no word from Arnold. I was doomed.