His Mediocrity

He was an unfortunate man whose life was like a piece of wood balancing on an inverted nail that was a tumour in his stomach. The tumour was benign, but it was alive and grows, and he tried his best to let it grow, because it could predict how well his company was doing - the bigger the tumour the better the financial status - when the tumour growth was in control, the company growth was stagnant - when the tumour showed signs of shrinkage, the company would be in deficit. He was the CFO. He was very well paid.

When there was a job offer, he decided to change jobs. Then he tried to fix his tumour. Then the new company got into trouble. Then he let it grow again.

Finally, the doctor told him, "If you still don't want to fix it, it would burst your stomach, and you will die."

"What are the odds, doctor?"

"You will definitely die."

"Everybody dies, doctor. If I don't fix it, how long would I have to live?"

"Negative three months. I hope your creditor is kind."

Then he got it removed, because he knew that no creditors were kind and the interest rates must be exorbitant in some way for it to be profitable. The company he was helping to run, folded, and he was sorry, but not remorseful.

The shape of his tumour would remind one of a brain, as it has crevices and folds that looks like the surface of the brain, except that it was dumpling-shaped into that of a stomach. He got some people to study the tumour to explore possible chances of transplanting to some animal, but all they found, in its heart, was a greasy coin, that he recognised as the coin that he stole from his mother's purse when he was young and ate to prevent from being found out.

He was later suspected of fraud and had his wealth confiscated.

He thought about stealing something from his mother's grave to swallow, but he did not know where his mother was buried, so he resorted to just making an honest living working and tried to resign to his mediocrity.