When he woke up the first time and thought, he got it all figured out.
Lots of things licked and the machine began to run smoothly, with only those things clinking that ought to clink, and nothing clanking at all.
When he got up and went to school and learnt his alphabets and words and numbers, he tucked them in at the tips of his tongue and his fingers, and pressed them in securely. From that salubrious spot, they flowed freely and surely to the top of his class, and then near-top in school. When he wanted to study, he studied, when he didn't study, he nearly failed. he didn't mind those times, because he had not-studied on purpose. once there had been an awesome football match that he couldn't dream of missing, the other time, he just hadn't felt like it. altogether, he escaped in good shape, became games captain and loved it, minded a bit at missing school captain, but got over it. Went out with this girl because he thought she was really pretty, and then gave it up because she was a pain. Kept a photograph, though.
Went to a good college for a course it wasn't good for. He'd also got through an unknown college with better faculty, but he thought he'd learn more here. He didn't learn as much as the hype had said he would, but he did learn quite a bit. Joined the debate group. Enjoyed it thoroughly. Taught them all table tennis, one by one. They used to do this thing of parrying arguments simultaneously with their shots. They won a lot. Made friends, laughed, drank, smoked, ate. Did pretty well generally. He got into trouble once about climbing on the roof, they thought it was an attempt to infiltrate the girls' hostel, but it was just an attempt to climb on the roof. If they'd had time, they'd have raised a chuddy on the flagpole. They did the next time, but it fell off before morning, so nothing happened.
He got a job in journalism, mostly field reporting. Then he moved to advertising, not in the creative department, but in finance. Rose in the company at the ordinary pace. Rented a flat with a good view out of two windows. Had a bike, but only took it out for the weekend trips, with friends or alone, to those 4-hour-drive places. Sometimes he took his girlfriend, mostly when it was hill-stations. It's nice to have a love-interest in the hills. Beside the sea, you're never alone like that.
Married at twenty nine, this sensible, pretty girl who liked him, and their families got along too. They had two kids in five years, two girls who both resembled his family- they had the medium length, straight nose, and determined chin.
It all went off well. Very well. People liked him. Even if he disagreed with them, he didn't come back pleading for forgiveness. If he said he was sorry, it was honest and unembarassed and a handshake always sealed it. When he got to love his woman, it was with honest appreciation and without a surfeit of emotion. When, twenty two years later, she died, he was sad but not crotchety. When, at fifty, director of the company, he retired, he wished he could have become M.D., but knew he'd have had to be in Creative at some point for that. Creative people with even a few months of Finance and Management could aspire to it, but the others couldn't aspire to it at all. All else could be picked up, but with creativity you either had it or you didn't.
He had four years of grandkids and adjusting to a world in which he represented the past. He refused to stop being active, drank and smoked as he hadn't done all his useful years, ate lots of good food and died of a heart attack. He didn't mind, I think. He knew what he was doing. From all I ever saw of him, I'd say he wouldn't mind.