0% Human

The story started at 2:03 A.M. when Henry woke from half his bed, the other half being occupied by his wife. He went to the bathroom right after waking up. He walked with his bare feet to the bathroom, which was not far to his left. Henry took a shower to clean his clean body from the slight potential dirt, as he did everyday. Henry doesn’t clean his hair often. He washed his hands and face as everyday and rushed to brush his perfectly organized teeth, for his teeth were all aligned as if they were in an assembly in the army. He put his clothes on; his choice of clothes was the same choice as yesterday and the day before. He walked through his dark, silent house. His house was so silent only the snoring of his family could be heard, but Henry was so used to it he was no longer aware this voice came from his family.

He filled his pockets and suitcase and went out of that place he sleeps in. The driver took his suitcase after opening the car’s door. Henry slipped once again into his car; he felt when the car stopped a few minutes later. Henry opened his soulless red eyes and got out of his now-opened car (the driver opened the car). He entered the practically lived-in bank in which he is the CEO. He pressed the highest floor in the elevator. When the elevator was going up, Henry continued sleeping, dreaming he would complete the hours of sleep his health required. He awoke with the ring of the elevator. He walked out of the elevator to find one of the employees holding his suitcase in his hand. Henry took the suitcase as the words “Thank you” got out of his mouth and entered his dear, cozy, hospitable office. Every step he took in that room was only muscle memory; the steps would stop when he reached his chair.

His chair was like his legs; he and his chair had a father-baby relationship. He had sat in it over the years so much that the surface of his behind was sculpted into the chair. He sat down in his chair and started what he did everyday, every week, every year, since a long time—longer than Henry could recall in an instant.

He typed and typed with his hands that were programmed to type from this point. Henry only stopped typing at 1:23 P.M. so he could digest food to stay alive. Henry was not conscious of the pain his fingers carried, the agony his back went through, the Niagara Falls on his forehead, or the deterioration his legs were feeling—not even the sufferance his soul was tortured by. He worked a lot; even with his manager and secretary covering a large portion of his job, he still had a lifetime's worth of work.

At 5:38, one of the bank’s employees knocked on Henry’s office door. ”Enter,” he said unenthusiastically. The employee entered the office. ”Greetings, Mr. Inman,” the employee said. Inman asked what he wanted in a cold tone that made him sound busy.

“Next week is my son’s graduation party. I was hoping if… if I could take the day off next Friday.”

“Do you know when I leave work everyday?” Henry asked.

“I believe you leave work at 12:40 P.M., sir. I know because I always try to keep working as long as you, sir, are in the building. But this is exceptional. I promise I will make up for it afterwards.”

“Well, you could go to work on the weekend to make up for it,” Henry said.

The employee hesitated, but after seconds of consideration he said, “Alright, sir. Thank you very much.” The employee then left the office, unaware that his promotion was getting delayed because of his request.

It was 11:46 when Persil knocked on the door. Persil entered (before Henry allowed her to) and told Henry the board wanted to see him. Henry tightened his tie, looked at the mirror quickly, stood up, and walked out of the office.

Henry entered the board of directors’ conference room. The room was dark; it was also clean—too clean, it looked barely used. All of the board members were aged; their backs were barely not broken, and they did not look physically healthy. One member was so skinny that his wrinkles were too big on him; another one was fat, with uncombed hair and messy, bushy eyebrows. Another one looked like melted pizza going through puberty, and I shall stop here before this story becomes a horror story.

“Good evening, dear board members,” Henry greeted.

The skinny board member turned his face to Henry, his neck vibrating as he slowly moved his head, which resembled the head of a vulture. He was frowning hard, like he’d been frowning his entire life. His burning reddish-orange eyes looked scary, with his almost hairless eyebrows bending down, and there was so little space between his hideous pointy nose and his mouth, which was shaped like a rainbow. After a great effort of turning his head to Henry in little time, he said, “2023.” His voice sounded like the final prayers of a man who smokes, whose chest has been crushed by a car.

“What about 2023?” Henry asked. All that horrifying effort to move his head was just so he could say “2023.”

“That was the year you liked an online video that mocked our bank!” an extremely low voice said, before being followed by an incredible echo.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It must have been a long time ago,” Henry responded, after going through the trauma that the voice he heard brought.

“You know we are a bank of integrity; we don’t accept such things!” a menacing high voice said, sounding like a super-villain’s voice.

“I’m afraid we have to fire you,” an aged voice said. Whoever said that must have been 100 years old. Even though they spoke with authority, there was a hint of begging for their life; this made a lot of sense, as whoever said that must have been physically fighting death to stay alive to this minute.

“You won’t fire me just because of a like,” Henry said, as his red eyes got redder and the black around his eyes was invaded with tears that made his dry face moist.

“We saw that like, and then we knew we had a reason. We had a reason,” the skinny man said.

“Please,” Henry said for the first time in his miserable adulthood.

“Sorry,” a voice that seemed to be the voice of someone who died 80 years ago said.

Henry felt like there was a big elephant sitting on his heart. He felt like his brain was deteriorating; he felt like the world ended. So if you met him one day and told him it’s not the end of the world if he lost his job, he would beg to differ.

Henry got out of the building and started to stare at it for a long time. Then he waited for his car, but he then perceived that when he lost his job, he lost everything—including his car and the services of his driver. Henry pulled out his phone to call an Uber. His phone was as hot as the center of the sun; Henry could feel the heat that touched his fingers. Henry realized he did not even have an Uber app on his phone; he had to download one, but as he entered the app store, the phone ran out of battery.

Henry walked in the streets with deep loss and sadness, for his tragedy was darker than the night sky he wandered in at the time.

Henry saw a yellow car with a sign on it that said “Taxi.” Henry used the taxi to go home; it was the first time Henry went that close to a taxi and got inside it in his life.

In the taxi, Henry’s eyes became moister and moister until even both he and the driver recognized that he was crying. The driver remained silent. The driver thought and decided to put on some music to cheer up his client, but the music barely sounded like brown noise to Henry.

When the taxi arrived at Henry’s house, Henry was too sad to detect that the car stopped. The driver wanted to be polite, but he was exasperated by the depression Henry brought. “You have arrived at your destination, sir.” Henry stayed in his seat awaiting his old driver to open the door, forgetting his old driver no longer served him. “What are you waiting for!” the driver asked firmly. “Sir,” he added politely.

When Henry entered his house, he felt very… empty. For the first time, he felt like he held time in his hand, but it was too much power for him and he had too little experience. But similar to every tragic tale, the best choice he could think of in the moment was to drink a whole bottle of soda and cry in the dark.

When Henry finished his bottle, he decided to drink another. When he was finished with that, he started another, and another; he drank a little more, then a lot more, and even more. The soda he drank did not make half of the tears that came out of his eyes. Henry’s eyes were usually as red as a sunset because of his job, but now his eyes were redder than a ruby crystal; they were red like the flames of hell and the blood of the condemned. As a narrator, I assure you that if he were drinking alcohol, he would have gotten so drunk that he’d commit a murder; he would have gone to prison to spend the rest of his life there before he got killed by his drunk inmates. He closed his eyes in the dark void he cried in, but a fraction of a second later, his peace was interrupted by his wife’s calling. He opened his eyes to find out he was surrounded by the light of day. His wife saw him in a tragic state: his dark hair was messed up and curled down to his forehead much like a waterfall, his suit was wrinkled like a thousand-year-old man, and his eyes were redder than usual.

-“Are you okay?” she asked her absent husband.

-“No, I… I… I… well, you see, I… I got—drank too many sodas! Oh, I need to go! I need to go to the bathroom!”

-“I know you drank too many sodas. We’re out of sodas; we’re out of everything! You need to send Phil to get our groceries,” she said before she saw the bathroom door close.

When Henry finished his business, he decided to go find a literal business to work for, to find a new job. Henry started typing at his computer to find any organizations that required someone with his background. As he searched, he briefly looked at the clock; there were only 15 minutes before his kids' school time! Since his driver no longer served him, his kids waited at the exit of the house for their lift. Henry had to do something; he called one of his kids’ friends’ parents to pick them up.

Once Henry was finished with his parental crisis, he continued his search. Henry finally found a great offer for people with his skills at A-tech. A-tech was the greatest technology company in the world; they needed a risk and compliance officer. Henry prepared for the interview he booked. He took a taxi to the A-tech headquarters of his city (unknowing this taxi was the same taxi from yesterday), but on his way, he had to go to the grocery store to get his weekly needs, so he went to the grocery store first.

Henry had never gone shopping in a grocery store; he had never gone shopping in general. When he entered the store, he thought about what he should do next. He saw the shopping basket and immediately understood what his next step was. His next challenge was reviewing afterwards: should he buy salsa or ketchup? Does he buy the whole chicken or does he buy it sliced? How many bottles of milk should he get? What in the world is that? Is everything a lie?!

“Okay, it can’t be that hard,” he thought. “I could categorize my needs into three: animal resources, vegetables and fruits, and cleaning products. No, wait, I have an idea!”

Henry phoned his former driver to ask him what he did.

“Hello, it’s Henry.”

“Yes, I don’t work for you anymore. Now I work for some guy named Anthony; he’s the new CEO.”

“I know, bu—wait, they already got a new CEO?”

“Yes.”

Henry was frustrated for a moment. After that human moment of frustration, he asked, “What were our weekly needs?”

“Oh, well, every week your wife asked me to buy: Body Shop shower gel, more than one apple, paprika, and more than one banana, grapes, dates, potatoes, mangoes, tomatoes, Tyson Foods’ carpaccios, and Doritos. She also asks for more than one lemon, one watermelon, and bacon, Happy Nuts comfort intimate hygiene powder, white peppers, black peppers, cucumbers, air fresheners, beef livers, and glass and toilet bowl cleaners. But also, sausages, cabbage, a peanut butter jar, a honey jar, and a Nutella jar, jerky, Parfums de Marly, carrots, chicken breasts, strips, steak, shampoo, a face mask, body spray, soap, laundry detergent, salt, milk, cumin bread, and uh…. Oh, your wife asked me to buy new puberty underpants for your daughter yesterday!”

-“Hold on, my daughter is seven… I think.”

-“What? No, your daughter is sixteen years old.”

-“Oh, well, okay. Thank you, good luck with the new guy,” Henry said as he ended the call before his former driver could even respond.

Henry entered the store, but five minutes later, he realized he didn’t bring a shopping cart. It took a while to find where the shopping carts were. He then kept wandering around like a fool in the store to find everything he was instructed to bring because he did not know how the grocery store was arranged; he looked for milk in the meat area and he looked for salt next to the shower gel.

Henry kept staring at the seafood counter like a five-year old.

When Henry finally achieved what seemed to be an impossible task to him, he went to the counter. Half of Henry’s cart was filled with what his driver told him, and the other half was filled with candies and products he didn’t know existed, so he wanted to buy them out of astonishment at these products.

“That would be 262 dollars and 51 cents,” the lady at the counter said. It took Henry a few seconds to understand she was addressing him.

“Oh, right,” he said. After reaching into the wrong pocket, he then took his dusty old wallet out of his pocket. He then started to count the money, banknote by banknote, until he got 265 dollars out of this dead skin of a wallet. Most of the money in Henry’s wallet was cash because he was used to giving his driver money to buy stuff, resulting in a ton of banknotes in his wallet and so little money in his cart.

Henry got out of the store with his plastic, dolphin-killing grocery bag. As he left the store, he realized that his interview was going to start in minutes! He rushed with his skinny legs to the A-tech headquarters, which was conveniently not far, yet it was exhausting for Henry.

Henry took a seat next to the office door. He waited until his name would be called; his waiting did not last long because after less than one minute, he heard his name being shouted. Henry stood up and entered the office with his tired legs, but to his surprise, he was not being interviewed by some generic guy at A-tech. His interviewer was tall, clean-shaven, and tanned; he had raven-black, slicked-back hair, dark eyes, a pointy nose, and a strict look on his face. He wore a black suit with a dark red shirt and pocket square. It was Mr. Abou-Dalam himself, the founder and owner of A-tech! He is like the Willy Wonka of technology!

“So, your name is Henry Inman. Pleasure meeting you,” Mr. Abou-Dalam said and reached his hand out for a handshake.

Henry shook his hand and said, “Greetings, Mr. Abou-Dalam. I’m here for the risk and compliance officer job interview.”

“Yes, I know,” Mr. Abou-Dalam said. “You see, lately our company had some problems with the police. My brother encouraged me to try to respect the law, so I decided to hire a risk and compliance officer. So, can I see your phone?” He opened his palm to receive the phone. Henry, a bit intimidated, gave him his phone. Mr. Abou-Dalam examined the phone and gave it back. “Good, you have an A-phone, although the cover is not made by A-tech. You will need to change the cover if you want the job.”

“Aren’t you supposed to ask me questions?” Henry asked.

“Not anymore. Today I will test you by my A-interviewer-bot. This machine will take a photo of you, gather all the information about you online, and read your body language to make a full analysis chart about you. It’s not entirely legal, but who cares?” He smiled. “Isn’t it genius!”

“Well—”

“Say it’s genius!” he shouted.

“Very genius, sir.”

Mr. Abou-Dalam prepared the machine; it looked like an oversized black projector with a red lens and a smiling mouth underneath the lenses.

“TAKING VISUAL INTEL, BEEP BEEP BOOP BEEP,” the machine said before a red light shaped like numerous horizontal and vertical lines was projected on Henry.

“STARTING RESEARCH, DEEP DEEP DEEP DEEP DEEP DEEP DEEP DEEP, RESEARCH FINISHED,” the machine said, and then a pile of paper came out of its back. Mr. Abou-Dalam started reading it. “Interesting,” he said.

The machine then projected a chart on the wall.

“Ok, so you are… 60 percent dedication, 20 percent respect, 10 percent selfishness to your job, 5 percent impatient, 2 percent intolerant, and 3 percent concentrated power of will. Wait, what? Mhm, very unusual,” Mr. Abou-Dalam said.

“What is it?” Henry asked.

“You are….. 0% human,” Abou-Dalam answered. “What do you think we should do, interviewer-bot?”

The interviewer-bot started to speak in Arabic in a traditional Arabic accent.

“Ok, you got the job!” Mr. Abou-Dalam said.

“Really!”

“Yes, you will start working for us next month.”

“'Next month!' No, I need to start now.”

“No, next month, but I will order you one request.”

“Of course, anything.”

“You will have to write a diary of what you did in this month. The more fun this diary is, the higher your salary is.”

“But what am I suppose to do in this month if I have no work?”

“It says here you have a family. You could spend time with them. I don’t have a family, so I wouldn’t know. Do you have a hobby?”

“Uh….. hobby, hobby, hobby, uh, oh yes! After I finish eating in my lunch break, I like to do sketches of people before I go back to work.”

“That’s not a hobby, man, that’s just something to pass time. But this used to be my hobby, so, so work with it! Ok, get out of my office. Bye!” Mr. Abou-Dalam said.

When Henry finished the interview, he wanted to buy a new car. Even though he lost his job, he was still exceptionally rich due to the years of hard work and working the work of a week in one day everyday. But unlike his groceries, he actually needed money in his credit to buy a car, so he went home and got a bag full of the money he took from the safe and went to the bank. By this point, his legs were like noodles. Henry was so tired he fell asleep on the bank’s waiting chairs as he kept laboring breathing. He was then woken up by one of the workers.

“Excuse me, sorry to disturb you, sir, but can I help you?” the employee said when he was waking Henry up.

“YOU’LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE!—I mean…. Oh, sorry. I want… I want…, Yes! I want to put the money in this bag on my card!” Henry said.

“Well, you can ask one of the tellers,” the employee said. “That one over there is not busy.” The employee pointed at a teller on the left corner.

“Thanks, kid,” Henry said as he walked towards the teller, not looking at the clearly aged “kid.”

Henry walked to the teller. The teller had brown ginger hair, dark black eyes, and he was clean-shaven.

“Hello, sir, can I put the money in this bag on my card?” Henry said as he showed him the bag of money.

“You mean deposit the cash you have in this bag into your bank account.”

“Yes!” Henry said enthusiastically.

“Can I have your ID, please?”

“Of course, of course,” Henry said as he got the ID out of his pockets. Unlike his other cards, his ID card was not in his wallet because he was so used to lending his ID card to not-so-random strangers.

The teller took the card and started typing on his computer.

“No problem, sir.” The teller took the bag and started to count the money. He took a rather long time to count, so Henry took more sleep at this time until the teller awoke him.

“Sir, this money is over 10,000 dollars. I’m going to have to ask you how you got it.”

“Oh, I was the CEO of the R.A.M.O. bank,” Henry said confidently, before he was reminded of his tragedy by the words he just said. “I used to be,” Henry said sadly in a quiet voice that nobody heard.

The teller continued typing and then asked him, “What is your full legal name?”

“My full legal name is Henry William Inman.”

“What is your current physical home address?”

“Why do you want to know?” Henry asked.

“I need to write those pieces of information so that I can deposit your money,” the teller said. Henry took a deep breath and answered. Then the teller asked him about his social security number and his date of birth, to which Henry answered. “Occupation or job?” the teller said.

“Oh, now you’re getting personal!” Henry shouted.

“Sir, I am required by law to fill the CTR. You know, Currency Transaction Report.”

“Of course I know what a CTR is! I—” Henry stopped and said, “Fine… I am currently…..” Henry started to tear up. “Unemployed. They fired me from my beloved company.” Henry then burst into tears. “How can they do this to me! They ruined me.”

“Ok…. well, I’m really sorry for that.”

“I don’t need your pathetic apology! I have a new job….. in about a month.”

“Sorry,” the teller said while he was shaking.

“What did I just say!” Henry shouted.

“And what is the source of these funds?”

“I still have a lot of money from my previous job, ok? Are you done!”

“Uhm, yeah…. I mean, it’s clear you are depositing money in your own account…., right?”

“You think!” Henry shouted.

The teller took the money and transferred it to Henry’s account.

“Ok, we’re all do—”

“Great,” Henry interrupted. He instantly rushed outside the bank.

Henry walked to the car store that was not far, but he realized it was getting dark. Henry went to the car dealership. He found the seller at the entrance; it appeared that there were no customers at this time. The seller had a gray beard with a few gray hairs, he had blue eyes, wore a dark grayish-brown suit, and he was carrying a handbag.

“Hello, sir, how can I help you?” the seller said with his Australian accent. He put his bag to the side and took off his hat.

“I would like to buy a car.”

“Of course! So, what kind of car would you like?”

“Ah? Show me around?” Henry asked. But Henry had never gotten these words out of his mouth before.

“Well, we have all kinds of cars, but I recommend the A-tech car. They’re fast, elegant, and of course, they have all of their technological advancements.” The seller showed Henry the A-tech cars available. Henry’s eyes were caught by a sign that said 30% off for the red A-tech car that was displayed next to the much more expensive black A-tech car.

“I want this one,” Henry said as he pointed to the red car.

“Ah, I see you have good taste in cars. Well, you’re lucky, sir, because this car has a 30% offer.”

“Great, you can take the mon—I mean, extract the money from my credit card,” Henry said as he handed the seller his card.

“Ooh, sorry, mate, but we only work with a cashier’s check. But I can wait for you here while you go to the bank. I just need you to leave your license.” He then gave Henry a piece of paper. “Here, write down the name of your bank and your phone number or email address.” Henry took two minutes to remember the name of his bank and then wrote both his number and email address faster than the blink of an eye, because Henry had written those few letters and numbers over millions of times throughout his lifetime. And finally, he gave the seller the paper back with his driver's license.

“Oh, right! Ok, thank you,” Henry said before he left for the bank.

Henry went back to the exact same bank to get the cashier’s check, but the bank was crowded this time. Henry always had the privilege to make someone else stand in line for him; now he had to do it for himself. Henry sat in the waiting chair he slept on earlier and started to tear up as time passed and his tiredness grew. Henry got to sleep for a few minutes until he opened his eyes to find a teller who was not busy. Henry jumped for joy and ran towards the teller.

“Hey! Can I get a cashier’s check, please!” Henry said enthusiastically.

“Ok, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to be patient because it’s not your turn.”

“Turn?” Henry said as horror took over his brain.

“Yes, you did take a number slip, right?”

“Of course!” Henry said unconvincingly, before suddenly changing his expression to a more serious one to ask, “Where can I get one?”

“From the ticket dispenser,” the teller said as soon as Henry asked, without being surprised at all.

“Right… what’s a ticket dispenser?” Henry asked the teller, who responded with the point of a finger towards the dispenser.

Henry took a ticket. Luckily for him, most of the customers were gone at the time, so Henry waited no more than 10 minutes before his turn came. Henry walked to the teller and asked him for a cashier's check. The teller asked him for the amount of money and the payee’s name, to which Henry responded precisely because he had written it down on a piece of paper before leaving the dealership earlier.

Henry left the bank, running to the dealership with the check in his hand. It felt like it had been hundreds of years since Henry last ran or even did anything outdoors. Henry felt refreshed by the air that went through his face, which didn’t come from an air conditioner like usual.

Henry arrived at the dealership and gave the seller the check.

“Took you long enough, mate. When you were getting the check, I actually wrote the contract. I just need insurance information to print it.”

“You gotta be kidding me! Insurance information?” Henry said in frustration.

“Do you have an insurance card?”

“No, what do I do?”

“It’s okay, don’t freak out. Just call an insurance company. I’ll dictate the VIN to you.”

Henry called the insurance company that the gentle seller requested and told the agent his new car’s VIN. The insurance agent asked him a few questions and then emailed Henry a digital insurance card.

The seller saw this insurance card and filled out the information he needed, then he printed the contract. Henry signed it and finally got ownership over the car! When Henry at last got to sit in his car, he felt a sense of reward and achievement he had never felt before. He had never gotten out and moved from place to place to get something done; it felt wonderful to do so. All the pain that Henry had from walking fixed the pain Henry had in his rusty back.

Henry horribly drove the car home, but luckily he didn’t get any tickets! It was 5 o’clock when he arrived. When he entered the bedroom, he saw his wife looking at him with such surprise.

“Back home early today, that never happens. What happened?” his wife asked him with concern.

“Well, I… I…,” Henry didn’t know what to say until he looked at his wife’s phone, “I will work for A-tech!”

“No way! You’re serious?”

“Yeah, I’ll get the job in a month, and I met Mr. Abou-Dalam himself!”

“What! And what is he like?”

“He’s… very… unusual. He asked me to make this month interesting and write about it.”

“And you bought a new A-tech car,” his wife told him as she looked through the window. “Did the company give it to you for free?”

“No! I bought it myself!” Henry said enthusiastically, like he was saying he had made a historical accomplishment, but it was a good accomplishment for someone like him. His wife looked at him with a big smile on her face; she started to blush.

“Aw, you bought a red car because you remembered that red is my favorite color,” his wife said, looking at him affectionately. “It’s good to see that you still care.”

Henry felt guilt for a second, with an additional minute of silence.

“Yes! Of course I remember your favorite color,” Henry lied. “The minute I saw this car, I knew that was the one. It was expensive, but anything for you, honey.”

His wife looked at him with admiration and she was then struck with a thought.

“Since you have a month before you start working, I would love for you to spend more time with the kids,” she asked.

“About the kids, how old is our daughter?”

“She’s sixteen, why?”

“No, I just forgot.”

Henry went to bed later on but he couldn’t sleep. He realized how he had neglected his humanity and isolated himself from everything for work. Today proved to him he valued nothing outside his job and that he was ignorant and inexperienced in the things that concerned him. Henry also perceived the world he was hiding from; he didn’t meet new people, didn't accomplish new personal tasks, and he didn’t get hit by the sunlight often. He realized how his overused privileges became social disadvantages and isolated him from the excitement of life.

Henry woke early as usual and took a bath and did everything he did in his morning routine; it was muscle memory. When he remembered that he had no job to attend, he felt like he was swimming in the void of the unknown called free time. But Mr. Abou-Dalam had told him to make something of his free time; the only problem was… he didn’t know how to use free time. Henry decided to work on his “hobby” like Abou-Dalam told him.

A few hours later, Henry’s wife awoke. She found her husband sitting in a chair drawing something; he looked very concentrated. Henry suddenly looked at his wife; he realized that she awoke.

“Good morning, love,” he said.

“What are you drawing?”

“Tell me, does this look like you?” Henry showed her the sketch he was making of her; it was a sketch of her sleeping.

“Like a picture,” she said with a smile on her face, “but an old photo. I don’t like colorless art.”

“You think I should color it?” he asked. His wife looked at him seriously for a minute and said,

“After you make breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“The chef is gone.”

“But I don’t know how to cook!” As soon as he said that, his wife looked at him with an affectionate smile.

“Sounds like someone needs help.”

His wife took him to the kitchen that he hadn’t seen for an eternity. When she asked him what he could cook, all he said was, “I can make omelettes!” His wife decided to work on that. She told him to make an omelette like how he would make it normally. She noticed he didn’t add any spices to the mixture.

“No! That’s very plain. Put some… black pepper and salt … oh, and paprika.” Henry did as told, but after he put the mixture on the pan, his wife surprised him by telling him...

“Now put two pieces of bread on the omelette!”

“What?”

“Quick!”

“Okay,” Henry did as told by putting pieces of toast on the omelette; he was clueless about what he was cooking.

“Now flip the omelette,” his wife told him. When Henry flipped the omelette, he noticed that the bread was stuck to the omelette, but he still had no idea what his wife had in mind.

“Ok, now throw some turkey slices!” she told him, and Henry did what she asked blindly, before he was shocked to see her bending the omelette, making an egg sandwich!

“See,” she said, “it takes a few simple changes to make something from normal to special.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Who would have known that cooking could be fun.”

“But eating will be even better! Now come on, let’s eat.”

“It’s been long since we had fun together,” Henry said as he perceived how truly isolated he was from his own life.

Henry’s wife gathered the family at the dining table as usual, but this time Henry was with them! He wasn’t alone; he was eating with his family.

“Dad?” his daughter said as confusion spread, “what are you doing here?”

“Well, I… uh—”

“Your father is getting a new job at A-tech.”

“Wow!” his older daughter said. “This means if I get accepted at A-tech when I graduate, I will… we will be working in the same place!”

“You’re in college!… Oh, yes, right!”

“Well, you weren’t there on my graduation day,” his daughter said in a depressed tone. Henry was speechless for a minute before saying:

“Well, guess who’s driving you to college in his new fancy car today!”

“That would be cool, are you serious?” his daughter asked.

“And are you driving me to school too?” his younger daughter asked.

“Yup,” Henry replied.

“I’m so proud of you,” his wife said.

After they finished eating, Henry took his daughters to see the new car. His daughters were very joined up to see it, and for the first time Henry felt this feeling—he didn’t know what it was called, but it was a mix of happiness and pride. He felt like his soul was divided into two girls, his daughters. That feeling was fatherhood.

For a while the car was silent as it was heading toward his daughter’s school.

“So, does anyone want to put on some music?"

“Yes, dad! You should totally listen to this song,” his young daughter said before she reached towards the car’s screen and typed the song. (A-tech car radios were practically phones.)

“Oh, I like this song,” Henry said.

When the song was over, his other daughter told him about another song he could play. After that song was over, he chose to let them hear the old-school music of his generation, which was very amusing to listen to. When his daughters started to argue about which song to play, so he decided that everyone would choose when their turn came.

When Henry’s daughter went to school and the other one went to college, he was all alone, and he was bored, so he worked more on his sketches. In the afternoon, he picked up his daughters and took them to a cafe.

“Ok, what shall I order?” Henry asked.

“Oh, I want a strawberry smoothie!” his younger daughter said.

“I want a caramel iced latte,” his other daughter said.

Henry went to order. The cashier was middle-aged; she had dark brown hair and a cool eyepatch (Henry thought that eyepatches were fictional before this moment).

“Hey, can I have one caramel iced latte, a strawberry milkshake, and uh…..,” Henry realized he didn’t know what to order for himself. He usually told his driver to order plain old coffee, but now, with him being at the counter, he did not know what to order. There were so many options, each more ordinary than the last. “Well, what do you recommend?” he asked the cashier.

“Well, we have this new flavor of latte made with coconut and chocolate,” the cashier said as she pointed to the screen that had this new item.

“Mmh…. Okay—oh, what is this?” Henry asked.

“Oh this? This is our mint and lemon shake,” she said.

“I’ll have one of that, please,” Henry said.

He then talked to his daughters about how his entire life changed the day he got fired. “My entire life was my work; I didn’t do anything else. But then I realized that I’m not just a CEO, I’m a human being who has qualities and faults and talents and hopes, and that I’ve been missing out on the simple adventures of life. At first they seemed tiring, but it filled my life with much more than sitting at a desk! And I realized that the things that mattered most in life were my family that I neglected, so I want to change! I want to become a full human being who goes out and sees the world from every angle! I kept making people do things that I thought weren’t important, like going to the bank for me or ordering me coffee, but these things make me more human and make me get out more, see society, and feel like I’m part of the community. And only when I lost my job did I realize that I had a talent for coloring sketches.” Henry showed his daughters his sketches, which were colored in a unique way that felt like embodying emotion on a piece of paper; some sketches were colored with different shades of hot colors, some were colored with different shades of cold colors, and some had a contrasting mix!

“Oh dad, you’re an artist!” his younger daughter said.

Henry spent the best time of his life with his daughters. After they finished drinking, they went out and did shopping—another fun activity Henry didn’t know about. Henry started to go to the bank, buy his groceries, or go to pay his bills himself; this made his life more interesting and he had funny encounters and witnessed unusual moments. He and his family laughed and made unforgettable memories. Henry spent a month's worth of writing with his family; he got to get out more, meet new people, and see the world in a wider range of perspective! And the day finally came when he would start working for A-tech.

At 5:30 A.M., Henry woke up. He woke his wife, Emily, up and told her good morning. Henry went to the bathroom, took a bath to clean his body from yesterday’s rot, brushed his teeth, and washed his hands and face. He then brushed his hair and eyebrows. Henry made French toast for his wife, pancakes with bacon for his young daughter, Patience, and an egg sandwich for his older daughter, Beatrice. Henry took thought on what to wear and he decided to wear a bright green tie, a white shirt, and a bluish-gray suit that had a unique shade that matched the tie perfectly! He wore his brown denim handbag before walking through his house, which was filled with the laughter of his kids. Henry dined happily with his family, and they talked and enjoyed their time. Henry then put some perfume on before driving his wife to work and kissing her goodbye, driving his daughter to college and wishing her good luck, and driving his other daughter to school and hugging her before school, which kind of embarrassed her.

“So, you went through character development,” Mr. Abou-Dalam said after he read Henry’s report of the month. “You taught your daughter how to drive after learning it from your wife, went to a new restaurant in the area, won an art competition, helped your daughter go through… teenagehood, and uh… learned what matters most in life.”

“I found out who I am. I’m not my job; my job is me!”

“Well, I’m proud of you. That’s why your work hours will be between seven to three-thirty. Oh, and if yiu have trouble cooking you can get the A-chef any the A-kitchen products, I guess you made your life more interesting and got to learn more.”

“Do you just put the letter A before any thing?” Henry asked to be answered by the serious face of Mr Abou-Dalam.“Thank you, Mr. Abou-Dalam,” Henry said in deep gratitude.

“Welcome to A-tech,” Mr. Abou-Dalam responded before he winked and vanished into thin air.

Henry enjoyed his new job, but most importantly, his new life. Henry changed his ways to become a better human, but the question is, will you?

Written by Omar Sohail Mayada