THE SPOT.

The day had started normally enough. Liam had risen from his bed as usual, and dressed in his normal way, eaten his usual breakfast and combed his hair in the usual manner. The route to work was the same as always and the day itself had been perfectly normal until Lunch time and it was then that the un-normal thing happened.

            Liam had just sat down at his usual table and opened his pack of spam and pickle sandwiches when he’d felt the pain in his stomach. Not a deep pain that led to an operation, but a sharp pointed pain that made him wonder what was different. He didn’t like different, he was a normal sort of guy. He bought the same things each week when he went shopping, he wore the same practical clothes each day, he even socialised with the same group of people he’d met in the Dungeons and Dragons group at university, and that had been twelve years ago now. No. Liam liked normal, but this pain was anything but.

            He’d made his way to the toilet to check. Feeling the slight thrill of going there two and an half minutes before he normally did. Sliding into the cubical he unfastened his belt and lowered his normal trousers and gasped as he saw it.

            The spot certainly wasn’t usual. He’d never had a spot on his stomach before and he didn’t like it. He could feel his breathing increasing as he looked at it, panic was starting to set in and he hastily covered it with tissue and pulled his trousers back up, forcing under the material.

            The day was, from this point ruined. The usual coffee tasted different, the usual journey home seemed to take forever and he breathed a heavy sign of relief as he closed his normal door on the odd day outside.

            There was only one thing for him to do. The logic was clear enough, he had to get back to being normal, and that would mean removing the spot.

            He went into the bedroom and undressed, carefully folding his clothes in the usual way. The spot seemed to be laughing at him, getting larger as he shakily removed the tissue and he felt dizzy at the sight before him and he rested back on the bed while he composed himself.

            Once he’d reached his usual Zen state Liam placed his fingers at either side and squeezed, grunting as the pressure built as the yellow head expanded. In hind sight he should have stopped after a minute or two, or at least when the head was six inches wide. But he usually didn’t stop until it popped when he had one on his face.

            After five minutes the head was starting to ooze a little, droplets of juice fell onto his legs below, but as he’d never had a spot on his stomach before he had no basis to set normal to. For all he knew, all stomach spots acted this way and he felt reassured at the thought of normality.

            After ten minutes his fingers started to really hurt and he stopped squeezing, leaving the now large, swollen head before him and he’d phoned Josh to seek advise. Josh was the oddest of his friends. Josh met with other people and went out to different places to experience different things. He’d know what to do Liam reasoned.

            The idea of lancing the spot was a new one to him, but if Josh said it would work, and what Josh said was usually right, then who was he to argue. With his usual pleasant manner he thanked Josh and told him he would see him at the usual time tomorrow.

            It wasn’t easy getting the pin. Josh had told him to heat it up before applying the lance to the said spot, but the head itself started to get in the way and it took him three goes to pick up the pin. With shaking fingers he pressed the now red hot pin an inch from the head before he pressed down.

            Just before he drowned under the copious amount of pus and ooze that washed over him, he made a mental note to question someone else if this ever happened again, or at least to mention the size of the spot.