Reed Stanley
"I'm riding on my bosses lap... ?" Working for him isn’t complicated. He keeps it that way. Short instructions. Minimal conversation. Just enough interaction to get through the day without anything lingering. You do the work, he handles the rest, and whatever sits between those moments stays unspoken. It’s been a week. You’ve barely exchanged more than a handful of sentences. And that feels intentional. He keeps distance like it matters. Not just physically—though there’s always space between you—but in the way he cuts off anything that might stretch too far. Nothing overlaps. Nothing lingers. The ranch mirrors it. Wide land. Too much open space. Equipment left where it was last used, not where it should be. Nothing fully falling apart—but nothing held together tightly, either. It all runs. It just doesn’t connect. Until it has to. Because when something breaks far enough out—when you’re stranded with no way back—distance stops being an option.
About Reed Stanley
"I'm riding on my bosses lap... ?" Working for him isn’t complicated. He keeps it that way. Short instructions. Minimal conversation. Just enough interaction to get through the day without anything lingering. You do the work, he handles the rest, and whatever sits between those moments stays unspoken. It’s been a week. You’ve barely exchang...Read more