Published: 2025-09-21

John opened the door of his apartment like he always did. He was tired after a long day of work and longed to lay in bed and watch TV. He turned the knob and the door opened. It was after 7:00 PM and the living room was pitch black. With his hand extended he looked for the switch on the wall; a clicking sound was heard follow by the white light of the LED bulb and the coordinated singing of happy birthday to you. It was a surprise party. His friends and relatives came from under the table and behind the sofa with big smiles on their faces, clapping and singing. John was startled; he wasn’t much for celebrating birthdays these years, but he appreciated the gesture. A big cake with the number 133 decorated the table. People drank, and sang, and drank some more. And nobody seemed to mind the cake. It was around midnight when everybody left; it was a weekday after all.

John sat at the table, looking at what was left of the cake. He seemed to be lost in it. “One hundred and thirty three,” he said, “that’s one hundred years older than Jesus ever was, after all, we was only a man while we are gods.”

Living over one hundred years was not unusual anymore, in fact, every guest at John’s party was over one hundred, with John being the youngest of the bunch.

John took a shower and got to bed; he didn’t intended to sleep, thus he turned the TV on. Late night TV was always the same: re-runs of old sitcoms, soft-core porn, and the news, oh the dreaded news. There was always a new debate, a new conflict, a new reason to be mad at the world. “Let’s see, why should I be angry today?” John said as he stopped changing channels. The news anchor talked about civil unrest:

“The protests against the government’s new birth control policies had intensified during the last few days. In the capital, several dozens of protesters have been arrested on charges of domestic terrorism. Looting also continues to be an issue across the country. The government stays firm in their—”

John turned the TV off.

“People will always complain. They complained when people died of multiple organ failure at 70, and they complain now that we can live to 200 and beyond. Why would we need to keep having kids when we are basically immortal.”

John kept shaking his head, even as he tucked himself in.

The next day John woke up at 7:00 AM as usual, took a shower, drank a cup of coffee, and left for work. The streets were desolated and ravaged; there had been multiple protests downtown in the last couple of days, and wherever there was protests, riots followed. John paid no attention to the protests; to him, everything was fine, there was no reason to protest, to swim against the current.

John stood in front of the building and looked up; it was the tallest building of the city, and although John worked there, it never ceased to amaze him. It was a business tower and it had one hundred and fifty floors. The biggest companies and law firms dreamed of having an office here, but only the top of the top could. John smiled as he entered the building; he lived for his job, and he would die for his job. He worked on insurance in an age when the industry was flourishing. People that live for hundreds of years were insurable, but the coverage was minimal, and it wasn’t much better for businesses, even with the constant riots, they would rarely see compensation.

But John was not mere insurance seller; he was in charge of denying claims, and he would do whatever necessary to achieve it. He was the best. Every month a new frame will go on the wall featuring his picture and the caption “Employee of the month”. He was unbeatable, he was truly a god. Be it a single mother filing a claim for her toddler dying of pneumonia or a war hero trying to get the company to cover his medication for panic attacks, John would deny the claim if he could, and he would do anything necessary to ensure he could. He would deny his mother’s claim if necessary. He was ruthless.

John hadn’t sat down yet when his boss called him to his office.

“Good morning, John, I heard you turned 133 yesterday. Happy birthday.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”
“Come on, don’t stay there. Have a seat.”

John’s boss office was spacious, with big mahogany chairs. John sat down.

“Have you seen the news lately, John?”
“I had, sir. It’s crazy out there.”
“It is, John. And in craziness, we thrive.”

John’s boss stood up in front of the window behind his desk, staring at the horizon.

“New birth control laws have been passed, and no amount of protests will undo it; I know it, because I had dinner with senator Riley yesterday. You know what that means, John?”
“I would surely like to hear it, sir.”
“What means is that our policies are already outdated; we are approving thousands of claims that could be easily denied. We are leaving millions of dollars on the table.”

John’s boss moved from the window to behind John’s chair and put both his hands in John’s shoulders.

“And that’s where you enter, my friend. Starting today I want you to automatically deny all claims coming from: single parents, parents with more than one child, underage parents and parents that had children while being underage, the list goes on, John. I’ll send you an email with all the details. How does that sound?”
“It’s brilliant, sir.”

John’s boss smiled.

“You know, John, I like you. There’s a bright future ahead of you in this company.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your kind words.”

John returned to his office and started working right away. The number of claims he had to process had suddenly multiplied tenfold. He worked all day and night, until he was exhausted and couldn’t work anymore. He had to get home and get some rest.

John stood in front of the building and looked up; he smiled. A white illuminated his body, John turned his head to it; the last thing he saw has the front of a truck with a fainted driver at the wheel. The truck impacted his body and crashed into the lobby of the body, splitting his body in two. John’s last thought was “the insurance won’t cover this.”

THE END.