The Last Man Standing

Sins blew his first professional salary, a stipend for rendering his services for a period of one month, in exactly 3 days. By the seventh day, he had recouped all of it back, plus another half as ‘surplus’. After repeating the same transaction for another 4 times, Sins felt like retiring and settling outside the city, preferably near the sea or tall mountains. He was good at this, he realised. After all, he was simply implementing the classic sales act of buying low and selling high, with top quality to boot.

Sins didn’t consider what he was doing as illegal. As far as he was concerned he was performing a social service for his aquaintances and good friends. He was even notoriously careful, refusing to answer his phone after 10 pm in the night, steadfastly adhering to his routine of sleeping for 7 hours. After his shift ended at 7 pm, he had a three hour window to meet clients and fulfil appointments, the only thing being that the meeting places would be fixed around abandoned alleys or less frequented roads, or sometimes basement parking lots of large retail stores.

He looked at his watch. It said 6 pm. Technically, he was done for the day, but rules prevented him from leaving before 7. He went over the list he had prepared in the morning, his guideline for the tasks he needed to accomplish today. Poring over it, he realised he hasn’t spoken to his girlfriend for the past 2 days, a rare occurrence, more from her perspective than him. He hoped she was busy and well. Sometimes, her deadlines could be crushing, unlike his, which was more about mindless slogging, requiring less creativity but more mental grinding.

A book he had been meaning to finish reading last week, was still left, 4 days into his second week. He reminded himself to wind up his meetings by 9 sharp, to catch up on it, after a dose of herb, of course. His phone rang.

It was him. The man who owned it all.

“Hey Sins, how are you? All good?”

“Sir, this is a surprise. I’m doing good. Tell me”.

“Can you pick up 10 off me?”


“You heard me”

“I don’t have the resources to pick that much. Surely you know that Sir”

“Sins don’t be a kid. I’ve known you for a while now. I’ve cut all the others off. You’re the only one left. I ask again, can you pick this up in an hour? Thanks”

The man’s tone was emotionless. Sins felt a slight chill when the man remarked about cutting the others off. What in God’s name, did he mean ‘cut’ them off?


“I’ll do it, Sir”

Sins felt the man smile at the other end, as if he were speaking to him face to face.

“Thanks. Remember, you’re the only man left. See you in an hour”


“And don’t forget the bong”

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