Schrödinger’s Inbox

Upon the news, I closed my mail in haste,

The layoff’s veil hung heavy in the air.

For years, I’d watched the giant’s awkward pace,

Its path not swift; its progress self-ensnared.

The email came, a warning of the blow:

Tomorrow’s culling set to reap its toll.

Yet till I looked, I’d neither come nor go—

A cat within the myst’ry box, my soul.

In superposed uncertainty I stayed,

Both dead and spared within my inbox trapped—

A fate unseen, though knowing well delayed,

The scythe not swung, nor yet the knot unwrapped.