Diary of a Widower

Daily entries by a husband, who stayed behind with his two sons

Lost at work. So what?

MONDAY, October 4 – My desk has been emptied. No trace of the two years spent as deputy editor-in-chief. There’s still a sign on the door with my name and those of my colleagues with whom I shared my office. Shall I take it along as a souvenir? Nah, just leave it there. I wander across the news floor like a lost child. Waiting for a new assignment. I feel as if a weight has been removed from my shoulders and at the same time that feels rather foolish.

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