"For every big there is one bigger"

A very bad morning it was, just like always, for the smalls. Flooding last night had all the streets covered by sewer water that had overflowed from The Bigs' town, making it hard for the smalls to reach work on time.

It was 5:30 a.m. Horrified and hurried, SM9128, a small fellow, was running and dodging the hurdles to reach his factory when he was caught by another small SM8180.

"So, you are ready for the whips?" said SM8180, another small worker with his usual smirk.

"Get the hell out of my way. This time I will have my finger phalanx cut off. I’m afraid," said the terrified SM9128.

"Yes, you have completed your whips threshold. What else do you expect now? I am happy to get whipped—comfortably," said SM8180, laughing.

"Oh you, the obedient slave. People like you are the reason why no revolution has ever taken place here," SM9128 replied with disappointment reflecting his charcoal eyes.

"Look at that tiny comrade here. Look how he is running for his life," SM8180 replied.

"I curse The Day, curse The Day," said SM9128.

"So you are one of those who still believe in legends?" asked SM8180.

"Legend? It was the disaster of our beautiful civilization. We were all the same—no Bigs, no us, bloody smalls. Believing in this story provides me relief and a slight hope that something similar will happen again and everything will be like before. Miracles, you know—they happen," said SM9128.

"Okay, mister historian, tell me what you’ve heard about The Day," asked SM8180 in an uninterested way.

"A nuke, a bloody nuke. Was it an asteroid? Was it a divine punishment? I don’t know. But it was an enormous blow. It just happened, and the survivors only witnessed a few of their own people turning into these Big monsters who now own everything today. They consider themselves the chosen Sons of Divine. They became double our size—heavy, strong, powerful."

SM9128 was interrupted by SM8180’s laughter but continued in a stronger voice.

"And they used their powers to rule everything. Just because of their size, they consider themselves superior to us. They own all the land, control our birth, death, marriages, how many children we should have according to their labor requirements. We are not allowed to use a car or even a bus,small towns and business centres are around 2 miles apart, walking for 4 miles daily? Isn’t it oppression? No form of entertainment. We only live because The Bigs need people to work, for only and only their luxuries. We all know The Bigs are only what 5 percent of our total locality? Even then we cannot do anything, nothing. And the worst thing is when I think about my only son, even if he survives, what life would he be getting? Only in 2 years he will be 10, then what? He will be submitted to the labor chamber, then you know what happens. What is even our identity? We don’t even have our names."

Again stopped by SM8180: "Yes, of course, sir SM9128," he said with a big smile.

"Do you even care?" asked SM9128.

"All I care about is reaching the factory as soon as possible. You know, you talk about these fantasy thoughts to everyone. Frankly speaking, they all laugh at you. You are missing the point of life here—missing the important things you should actually be caring about. Your family. Your only son—a heart patient. As long as you're moving, he has a chance to get treated. Once you’re useless, then you know what will happen. Right now the only important thing is to reach work. You’ve been whipped ten times already. Today they will chop your finger phalanx. And how many of your fingers are left?"

SM9128 looked at his hands.

"Never mind," said SM8180. He continued, "See, the point is—whatever we have, we must move accordingly. We all know very well why we are getting late. It was not the flood, but the sewerage network. Always their mess is diverted to our homes. When they were enjoying the beautiful rain yesterday, we were praying for our lives. Sixty-eight smalls were killed yesterday. Does anyone even count? No one. Only when 68 people don't reach work, they will automatically be considered dead. It works like that.

"Everyone knows how this world works. The Bigs are not the problem—they are just playing their role in a world designed to oppress the smaller. You know, every big has someone bigger. So does every small have someone smaller. We are just cogs in the machine. So live with it, man—I mean, small man."

***

At 9:00 p.m., SM9128 reached his home—a 40 by 40 feet brick-made, roofless house filled with floodwater up to their knees.

"Tough day it was. Toughest one," SM9128 screamed to his son, SM9901.

"It has started again," said SM9901, annoyed.

"I knew it would be a chop day. I had to rush to the hospital then. It was crowded as hell. I guess everyone was late today. It was also a relief that I wasn’t the only one to get a piece of finger chopped. Anyways, today's earnings were spent on my bandage, so guess what? No food today, son," SM9128 said, his voice cracking as tears ran down his cheeks.

"Used to it, father. Don’t worry," replied SM9901, in an uninterested manner.

A sound of glass breaking came from their kitchen. SM9128’s expression changed suddenly from a weeping face to anger and crudeness.

"Oh, you did it again, you wretched of the earth! You tiny creature! I will kill you today. No one can save you from me—not even those Big people of God!" shouted SM9128.

He took his whip. And from the eyes of small boy SM9901, it could be seen: a shadow of SM9128 whipping his tiny slave—half his size—to death. Screams of the tiny were being heard by SM9901 until his breathing stopped, showing a relieving smile on the boy’s face as the house became silent.