Link to the App 👉
🔴 **I got sacked by WhatsApp on the way home** The message came through just as the bus had left Salford heading back towards Manchester. I was sitting by the window, still in my dirty orange hi-vis jacket, with one earphone in and a Lidl bag at my feet. Inside were milk, bread, pasta and the cheapest yoghurts for the kids. My phone buzzed. I thought it was Sarah asking where I was. But it was the foreman. “Mark, you don’t need to come in tomorrow. The job’s been stopped. I’ll let you know more later.” I read it a few times. You don’t need to come in tomorrow. That was it. No call. No explanation. No “thanks mate”. Just a WhatsApp while I was on my way home with shopping I could barely afford. I looked down at the bag by my feet and that’s when it really hit me. I’d managed to buy the milk. But tomorrow? I had no idea. My name’s Mark Thompson. I’m 35 and I live in Manchester, in Levenshulme. I’ve worked wherever the work was — Salford, Oldham, Stockport, the city centre. I’m not a writer. I write how I speak. I’ve spent my whole life working with my hands, not with words. **I was never a lazy bastard** I’ve been grafting since I was 18. First in warehouses, then on refurbs, then on building sites. I can lay tiles, carry plasterboard, paint, drill, knock walls down, clean up, unload wagons. I’ve never been one to slack off. I turned up on time. I did what was asked. If they needed me to stay late, I stayed. If the job was miles away, I went. And still they sacked me with one message. Like I was a broken tool. That day we were loading materials on the second floor in Salford. An old building they were turning into fancy flats for students and tourists. For someone else it would be a nice Airbnb. For us it was dust, back pain and shit coffee in plastic cups. After work I popped into Aldi. I had £38 in my account. I only bought what we needed: milk, bread, pasta, yoghurts, eggs and chicken on offer. At the till I picked up a packet of biscuits for Ellie, then
