A Tin of Old Photographs Revealed Why a Best Friend Kept Helping

Harold was down the hall in the main conference room, locked in a heated discussion with Benjamin about the third-quarter projections. I stood by the filing cabinet, sliding the green folders into the metal racks one by one.

On the corner of Harold’s desk, next to his silver travel mug, sat a small plastic tray where he kept his daily pocket reminders.continue reading …