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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1595020-Purpose
by Shadow
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Emotional · #1595020
What iif you're a failure, with no purpose?
Hello. My name is Al Sanders. And I’m a loser. You know, like those people you see every day. Common. Miserable all the time. With absolutely nothing special about them? I'm THAT guy.

I have a wife. Successful. Two brothers. Successful. Hell, my eldest makes more money per month at 25 than I did all my life.



My day goes pretty average. The same old office grind. 9 to 5. Worse, I have to work under a boss, who I once taught there. I remember him. A young, shy, nervous guy. His first day was pretty hectic. And then the office mentoring program assigned him to me. I showed him the ropes. Taught him all the tricks. And now, he's my boss. He's still respectful, mind you. Still calls me sir. Still, that stings. Working under a once subordinate.



Then it’s back to home. My wife, she's an architect. She and I met and it was love at first sight. We were both studying architecture. We got married right after she graduated. I said "She" because I couldn't. Because once I got stuck in a protest, some idiot took my picture there and sent it to newspapers. The next day the university expelled me, even though I wasn't one of the protestors.



When we were dating, I used to take her to buildings around town. Thought that was sure to interest her. And now she says that it was I who piqued her interest in architecture and it is because of me that she founded her own successful firm. Yeah right. I mean I know that I did wrong by taking her to those boring places and I couldn’t graduate. She doesn't have to rub it in.



My brothers, they're engineers. "Hotrod Sanders" the world calls them. Between the two of them, they've designed 3 different cars. Fuel-efficient and all that. If and when they come over, they always bring a cake or something. Say I inspired most of their cars. Geez. If it’s my hobby to carve little cars out of wood, and if I happen to give them to their kids, is it such a crime?



Early in my life, I used to make and solve puzzles. Just to kill time. Thought it might get me a prize or two. entered a few converts. never won. Got bored and left. Then my eldest who got hold of my old notes and asked me to explain them. And my misfortune that I did. Now that he's won some international championship, he can't stop singing my praises of how smart I had been and so on. I mean come on, I get it, you won a prize, it’s not like I did it.



And so the list does on, my friend, went on to Hollywood after I showed him my script and then he wrote a new one and realized that he could do a lot better. Or my co-worker who wrote that book? Said I inspired him by showing him my writings.



So let’s hear it God, tell me why I was kept miserable all my life. Why was it, that others achieved the dreams that I had. What the hell was MY purpose in life? Tell me. Now that I’m dead, at least NOW I should get to know.



And God, who had been patiently listening all this time started laughing. He had fit upon fit of laughter and I was dumbstruck, seeing the Almighty taking pleasure in this. Finally, he stopped and said in slightly cheery voice, "you never realized it, did you? You were the catalyst. Your PURPOSE was to help others find THEIR purpose. And you did your job well.”

© Copyright 2009 Shadow (alisajidimami at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1595020-Purpose