The shrewd, shot-tempered, and immature.
Once there lived three friends in a room. All of them had myriad qualities but excelled in one. One was immature and despite of being an adult, behaved like a child. The second was shot-tempered, grew red for tiny reasons, and cursed the hell out of people. Sometimes he would be so rude, that his friends would not talk to him for days. However, eventually he would manage to get them to talk to him by apologising, or they would turn up themselves for his anger didn’t last too long. The third one was the most dangerous one. He was neither immature, nor shot-tempered; in fact, he was the coolest and calmest of them all.
Now the immature one was playful, supporting his nature. He had brought a stick, which he would revolve among his fingers. One day, he was playing with his stick to the tune of a favourite piece, when the stick fell from his hands and fell down. The shot-tempered told him to stop, or else someone might get hurt. However, the immature didn’t listen, lifted the stick from the ground, and began his play. The stick fell once again and this time, on shot-tempered’s leg. He warned him to stop. His tone grew a little alarming this time. He took the stick and sat on the sofa beside shot-tempered. After a while, his favourite track played, and he couldn’t stop himself and with a hope to have a safe luck this time, he began his game once again. He played to the track, while shot-tempered continued his magazine, with divided attention. He had already lost a part of his precious concentration because of immature’s silly game.
Immature rotated the stick on his fingers as if they were a part of his hand. He had begun to enjoy himself in the flow of the music, he slipped on the floor, and the stick went and struck the head of the shot-tempered. The shot-tempered had lost all his gentleness, and had turned into a wild monster. He began scolding immature, for his childish behaviour and told warned him that he would throw the stick away, before it injured anyone. Before immature could recover from his physical shock, he had gone into a state of mental shock and paranoia. While all this was happening, the shrewd sat at a corner and watched all this. He had rather observed things.
One day when immature was out and shot-tempered was busy in his siesta, shrewd took the stick and threw it out. When, immature returned home, he began looking for his stick, but after an hour’s search, he could not find it. Shrewd saw him searching for his stick, and asked him ‘what are you searching my friend?’ ‘My stick’ he replied.
Shrewd denied of having seen it but reminded immature of shot-tempered’s warning. Immature grew angry and without giving a thoughts to the matter, he barged into shot-tempered’s room and pierced his chest with a knife. He did so, until the shot-tempered was dead. When he realised his deed, he went looking for shrewd but he was out of sight. After a while, he thought of disposing of the body and cried while putting his friend’s body in a plastic bag. He cursed himself and asked for forgiveness, but what was done could not be done.
While he was busy with disposal, he heard a noise, which as it came closer, became obvious to be the police siren. In a few moments, he was surrounded by police officers and was taken into custody. The fingerprints on the knife and the dead body and his presence at the crime site were enough to speak for his crimes. He was rewarded the sentence of lifetime imprisonment, and sent to a county jail, where he spent the rest of his life in shame and guilt. When he told his story to the inmates, and his ignorance of the culprit who had called the police, they all laughed at him. Then he realised who the culprit was.
Therefore, the shot-tempered went to the grave where he could shout and curse as much as possible and no one would be bothered.
The immature got a place where all his immaturities will be punished without any fake warnings.
The shrewd lives in the house amongst all the riches and charms that life has to offer, spending his days in despair and solitude, waiting to die alone.