The Whale, Inc.

Jonah was swallowed by a large corporation and took refuge in its belly. He waited to see in what part of the world the great whale would spit him up, if ever. He lit fires in the belly and made shadow puppets on the walls of the stomach, while he waited. And waited. He would have completely forgotten what the outside world was like if not for the items the whale swallowed from time to time; a bicycle, a kite, a high school marching band, sometimes an outside consultant with tales of what life was like in other whales. Jonah wondered if life was better in another belly, if the perks were slightly better or the pay. And yet he always felt gratitude to the whale when, with a great upheaval and expurgation, it would expel from its gullet everyone it had collected over time, including the consultants, while he remained. Gone were those who were nearing retirement, those deemed redundant, those less emphatic about the greatness of the whale.

Jonah fumbled around in the dark for a time until he had gathered enough materials to light a little fire again. New people came splashing in the next day; young professionals fresh out of college, wiping water out of their eyes and trying to get their bearings. Their clothes were nicer than his, he noticed; silk ties and Kenneth Cole shoes and sweater vests, but he knew that given a few weeks in the digestive juices of the whale, they would look as disheveled as himself. And they did. With a trapped look in their eyes, some of them started searching the linings of the belly for ways to get out. They irritated the whale just enough so that they were either spit out or forced further down its digestive tract. Not Jonah. Maybe he was clever for having learned how to ride the corporation for all it was worth. Maybe he should have been ashamed with himself for having lost so much of his self respect and identity that he found himself content with life in the belly of the whale; but there it was, printed on all of his business cards, his stationary, even on the logos of his clothes: The Whale, Inc. Sometimes it felt safe to be so utterly consumed.