Insurance

The old man at the bank had been so kind when Isabella Garcia had signed up for her loan, but she soon fell behind on the payments. She didn’t want to ignore the threatening letters as they arrived, but what choice did she have? It’s not like she had the money. Then things got really weird.

She woke up one morning with aching pain. Her hands were wrinkled and rough. She looked in the mirror to see the face of the old man looking back. She rushed down to the bank to find her own body sitting at the old man’s desk.

“What did you do?” She hissed at him.

“It’s all in the policy you signed,” He replied, “This is a bit of an insurance policy for us here at the bank. As you can probably tell, my body was old, 72 to be exact. I couldn’t work much more, and I wasn’t happy about that. Neither was the bank. But now that you put your body up for collateral; well, I can easily work another twenty to thirty years like this. The bank wins. I win. And your loan is forgiven. Can you really complain?”