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I catch the ball, spin, and throw it back to my friend. I throw it way too hard. It goes sailing over my friend’s head, bounces, then goes into the back of a girl sat in a little circle with her friends. One of her friends tuts at us and tells us to be more careful. We assure her that we will be more careful from now on.

My friend collects the ball and throws it to me but he doesn’t throw it anywhere near hard enough. The ball bounces a couple of feet in front of me. I bend down and grab it before it can bounce again.

We play catch for another ten minutes then we get bored. We return to where we dumped our bags and the beer. We both opened a fresh beer. We sit down and chat about life. My friend says if he doesn’t start working harder he will get a bad grade. I tell him I am going to get a bad grade no matter how hard I work. We decide that grades are stupid and we don’t care about them.


I fill in the last box then I sign my name at the bottom. Doing paperwork for lawyers all day is boring but my foot is in the door now. It is only a matter of time before my firm sponsors me to do the bar exam. All I have to do is pass the bar and I’ll be rich.

I file the paperwork in its proper place then I move onto the next piece of paperwork. It is some stupid case where someone got in a minor car crash. They want the other party to pay for their repairs but the other party is refusing. Cases like this are why everyone needs to have insurance.

I fill out the paperwork as carefully as I can. When I am satisfied that it is perfect I sign my name at the bottom. It has to be perfect: they’d never let someone who can’t do paperwork become a lawyer.

During my lunch break I chat to the other paralegals. They are all trying to become lawyers too. We are friends even though we are in direct competition with each other; anything is better than being friends with the stupid lawyers.


I finish my last sentence just as the clock ticks round to half past. The invigilator tells us to stop writing. I put my pen down. I feel immense pride. That was a good exam. I couldn’t have done it any better. All the hours I spent revising have surely paid off. This time next month I’ll be a lawyer.

One of the other paralegals from my firm is there. We chatted for a little bit outside the exam hall. He says the exam was really hard. I tell him he’ll be fine. They want people to become lawyers. They are looking to pass as many people as they can. I tell him that this time next month we’ll both be lawyers. He says that’s what he’s afraid of.


Dominik Slusarczyk is an artist who makes everything from music to painting. He was educated at The University of Nottingham where he got a degree in biochemistry. His fiction has been published in various literary magazines including moonShine Review and SHiFT – A Journal of Literary Oddities. His fiction was selected in The Fictionette Monthly Flash Fiction Contest and was long-listed in The Cranked Anvil Short Story Competition.


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