An Open Letter of Resignation

An undisclosed location

Somewhere off the East Coast of Uganda

To whom it may concern,

Please accept this letter as a formal notice of the resignation of my post with your esteemed company, effective as of the moment the ink dries upon the page (and just to be sure I have used my very own waterproof quick-dry concoction).

I hope that this abrupt decision does not unduly shock you, and I do apologise for any distress caused upon the reading of this letter. However, I do believe it to be only courteous to explain to you  — as far as is in my power — the circumstances surrounding the sudden termination of my employment.

Fear not, it is not the unreasonable working hours or the questionable pay (for the past two years, sixteen months, and eighty-seven days back pay please make out a check to be delivered to my brother-in-law when convenient), nor is it your excellent management style (congratulations by the way on your graduation with distinction in the Advance Verbal Abuse for Employers section of your People Skills and Running Things Masters programme, we are proud!). No indeed, we employees learn that such things are more than tolerable when we have the privilege of working for such a distinguished corporation.

The circumstances surrounding my sudden leaving are, in fact, far more unconventional to tell the truth. You see, Friday past I was clearing out my attic when I came across an old crate full of straw, in which I discovered an unhatched dragon’s egg. This would not have been a problem but that, as you know, I am a clumsy dolt and accidentally bonded with it.

It was an emotionally strenuous weekend as I had to work through suppressed issues surrounding the fact that my mother never allowed me a puppy as a child — which surfaced due to my sudden responsibility (dragons are exactly like dogs except that they are completely different). In addition to this, I had to enlist the help of an old wizard to get the egg to a sanctuary somewhere across a big desert, hidden in a mountainous forest behind a waterfall that looked distinctly like something that wasn’t a waterfall.

The wizard perished along the way while fighting some goblin things that weren’t actually goblins (he’s better now) which made it rather more tricky to find the people I was supposed to take the egg to but I got there in the end with the help of my brother-in-law (again, please make the cheque payable to him) who promptly betrayed me, which was awkward but we’re all good now. He’ll be bringing the kids down for Christmas.

Anyway, we managed to get the dragon to the sanctuary mere hours before it hatched and it’s safe now and reunited with its family and it was all rather heartwarming.

I arrived home Sunday night and was having a lovely cup of tea before an early night in preparation for coming to work the next day (with your esteemed company), when there was a knock at the door and I found a dwarf with a letter offering me a job I had applied for back when I was six, working for a unicorn conservation trust. The letter was late because a powerful disembodied sorcerer had taken over the neighbouring country, resulting in a civil war which caused a few moderate delays to the national postal service.

As the dwarf had evidently travelled no inconsiderable distance, I accepted the offer straight away rather than waste any more of his time.

I write this now as the dwarf finishes his microwave meal. I shall depart with him forthwith and send this message on by carrier eagle, as it is more economical than post.

Once more, I hope that this letter does not cause you any undue distress but I am sure that you will understand that sometimes these things happen, and it just can’t be helped. I rest assured that the job office will be able to provide a fresh skivvy to fill the insignificant pothole that my leaving will cause.

I did not steal the hole punch, it is in the bottom drawer of Sylvia’s desk, along with two boxes of novelty paperclips, a year’s supply of printer paper, and a significant number of spoons from the staff canteen.

I wish you well in all of your legitimate business endeavours, and will think of you as often and as fondly as you think of me as I embark upon my new career in unicorn husbandry in an undisclosed location 27.6 miles north-west of the East Ugandan Coast.

Yours sincerely,

Your (former) employee


4 thoughts on “An Open Letter of Resignation

    1. Glad you like it :) the Boy Moose asked what I would write when I resigned recently. So this is the one I wish I had handed in instead :)

      Liked by 1 person

    1. You’ve evidently never had a neighbouring country overrun by a disembodied wizard… Smoke signals are, of course, an option but they tend to get mis-spelt on windy days which can lead to no small amount of confusion.


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