Another Typical Life

Jon woke up to The Stench.

It began years ago as a minor odor, a nuisance, but nothing he couldn't deal with. Better than that, nobody else seemed to notice. At least they didn't say anything to him about it.

But lately it had been getting progressively worse. His cat slept next to him, instead of on his chest. And the pain kicked in. In his gut. Mild at first, but getting to a point where it occasionally doubled him over.

It smelled like garbage, it felt like needles.

Jon went to visit Dr. Robert. The good Doc recognized the problem immediately, as he recoiled at The Stench in the cramped examination room.

Dr. Robert said "Jon, you are rotting from the inside out. Your organs are probably 75% liquid at this point. Soon you'll be pissing liver and shitting kidney, and shortly after that you'll be dead."

Jon staggered into a chair, almost toppling it over. He asked "Where is this coming from ? (although, darkly, he suspected he knew the answer).

Dr. Robert said "I've seen this before. Many times. Jon, you are not living the life you were born to live. No human can survive that. Your mind is in constant conflict with what your body is doing. The battle intensifies as you stray farther from where you should be. Until your body temperature begins to rise, and keeps on rising until organs start to melt. Your body is essentially eating itself."

Jon spoke, tears running down his cheeks. "I hate my life, always did, just like everyone else does theirs. But I always thought I would have time to straighten it out. I thought I had time."

Dr. Robert "There's never enough time. Procrastinating while your soul suffocates, putting your head down like a bull as you make your way mistakenly through the wrong life, is plain stupid. You are 72. You are out of time. Unhappiness is a symptom. You ignored it. Now you pay."

Jon begged. "Isn't there anything you can do? I need one more chance. I can change direction, I can change myself - I just need a little more time. Please."

Dr. Robert "You are done. I'm sorry, Jon, but you have been unhappy for 50 years. You had plenty of time to do something about it and you pissed it all away. Please leave. I have other patients to see."

Jon walked out of the building like a drunken man. People on the street gave him a wide berth as they passed, because of The Stench. It was intense and would only get worse.

He heard kids laughing behind him. Reaching back to his right thigh, he realized his pants were wet. Worse than that, what he felt was thick and sticky. He knew the end was near.

Jon made it home and lay down on the couch, sobbing. He reached out to his cat - he needed her love now more than ever. She jumped up on his chest, but immediately jumped back down and curled up in his recliner.

Jon was alone.

He died later that day, as November darkness settled into his living room.