Cutting a Possible Insomnia

[Let us put our current thoughts that may contribute to an insomnia later through the night (or day since it is already 12 am) into a story... Let us use "Ben" as the main and only character of the story....]

Ben suddenly flipped to his right side while he was lying down on his bed facing the wall. He opened his eyes and on the wall, he saw writings.

The writings on the wall were scribbles in his head : high buildings and condominiums, and then some floating numbers from his mental computation of his own cash flow. He closed his eyes for few seconds hoping to clear the picture and yet when he opened his eyes again it is still there.

He turned his back to the wall. Feeling a little betrayed that instead of seeing any speck of dirt or dust or cobweb near his face on the wall to distract his thoughts, he saw what he has been musing about for full 2 hours already since he tried to lie down on his bed at around 2 am.

He sat up on his bed frustrated. His bills started to float around his head as if mocking his thoughts of computation. He stared at his hands as if summoning some spell to produce money.

MONEY.

Just as he thought he was working fine enough and finally ready to be able to invest on what he thinks is the best investment any time - real estate - he realizes that his income will never be enough. He started making mental adjustments of his current lifestyle and it only turns out to sustain the amount he projects he needs, he would need to live on one meal per day of a meager one can of sardines and a cup of rice.

DAMN POOR. How do they do it?

That is what was left on his thoughts as sleep finally came to him. He flopped down on his back again and drifted off to sleep. In slow motion as the world fades out from in front of him to dream land, he saw himself, in his old age, with a cane in one hand, a briefcase on another, walking down the street towards a tall building, his ankle with shackles.

[at this point Midjourney is having a hard time creating my imagination of the shackles on his feet, the cane and the briefcase, etcetera.. but this image will do....]

With three slams of his closed fist on the bed, he drifts off to sleep.

Have you ever experienced having the same thoughts as Ben? If you were him, how would you come up with the money he needs for investment? Ben is hoping to retire from employment in the next 10 years?

What would you do?

How would you go about it?

[I am out of brain juice to add in more to the story. Maybe you can pitch in a next scenario...? Care to share your next scenes?]

What is your story?

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