😱😵 For years, I built dozens of houses. When I finally told the management that I wanted to retire, they replied:
“You’ll retire, but first, build one more — the last house.”
I was furious. For the first time in my life, I did my work carelessly, without paying attention to safety — I just wanted to finish, hand it over, and forget it.
But I had no idea that for this negligence, life had prepared a truly cruel punishment for me…
All my life, I had built houses. Hundreds of roofs, thousands of bricks — all had passed through my hands, all with love.
People moved in, laughed, raised children, and I moved on, proud of leaving something behind.
But the years had taken their toll — my back ached, my hands trembled, and grey hair had long settled in my beard.
I decided: it’s time. “Enough, I’m tired,” I told my boss.
I wanted, at last, to wake up not to the noise of construction, but to the smell of my wife’s coffee and the laughter of my grandchildren.
But he wouldn’t let me go.
“Build one more house — the last one. Then you can retire, as promised.”
I wanted to refuse, but something inside me tightened. The last one… so be it.
Only this time, I worked without passion. My hands moved on their own, but without soul.
I did everything hastily, didn’t double-check, didn’t measure every millimeter like before.
Every nail was hammered with irritation, every plank placed without love.
Sometimes, I caught myself just nodding, pretending everything was under control — though I no longer cared.
“Let it be as it will,” I thought, never imagining the lesson life was preparing for me because of my negligence.
I was angry they didn’t let me leave immediately. I had earned it!
Years of honest work, no weekends, no complaints… All I wanted was a little peace.
I kept building, but inside me, one thought kept boiling: why must I prove that I deserve to rest?
😲😨 I could never have imagined that for this carelessness, life would make me pay in the cruelest way — by forcing me to feel it all to the fullest.
To be continued in the first comment…👇👇
The house was finished. The last nail hammered, the tools packed away — but I felt no relief, only emptiness.
I just wanted to leave and forget about the construction site forever.
But that day, the boss said:
— Stay, we have a surprise for you.
In the yard, everyone I had worked with for years had gathered. The boss spoke:
— Today, we bid farewell to our senior builder as he retires. Thank you for the dozens of houses, for your honesty, for the hands that brought warmth and comfort to people.
And you know — he smiled — this last house isn’t for a client… it’s for you.
I froze.
— We wanted you to live in a house built with your own hands. So that every corner would feel like home.
Everyone clapped, laughed, congratulated me.
But I stood there pale, unable to say a word. They thought I was touched, but I was burning with shame.
Because this house, I had built hastily, without soul.
Fate had returned to me my only negligence in life.
Now I had to live surrounded by a reminder of my own indifference.
