Different Flavors
It's a weird time here in the city of bilk-berry. Here, there's no future or past.
I guess you could say we're in between the times.
Here, no one really cares about being at home, or spending time with loved ones.
Here, we aimlessly walk the streets where many vendors try to sell us the same thing.
Happiness.
Happiness?
Instead of monetary gains such as paper. We give away a piece of our own emotions, or, ourselves.
There's nothing to worry about, though.
Our emotions reload every 365 days.
At least that's what the government tells us.
One day, I decided to do my usual series of visits.
I step into a small building.
"Good day, sir? Can I interest you in some happiness?"
"What do you have today, Mr. Colman?"
"Well, if you'll walk with me."
We follow a narrow path to the side of the shop.
He pulls out a laser pointer and aims it at a hologram.
"Here, I have dreams of becoming a millionaire."
"No, thank you. I bought that one last week and I still feel nothing."
"Very well, sir," he says while walking me to the next kiosk.
"Here, I have the illusion of being liked online by strangers."
"Nah, I'm not really a fan of social media."
"I think I'll just come by when I might feel like it."
"Wait, there is this."
We walk and he points at another.
"This is the thought of the joy of never being alone."
I shake my head and walk out of the store.
As I drag my feet alongside the pavement, I see faceless individuals.
No one looks in my direction.
Only their phones.
Only their mirrors.
It's not all bad though.
No will be sad if you died.
I continue my street walk until I see the glimmer of a storefront.
Well, it's not like a neon glimmer, more of a plain excellency that puts it in a different light than the other stores.
I walk inside and I'm greeted by an old man with a semi-long beard.
"Hello, my friend. I don't get many visitors here."
"Uh, hi, when, I mean, how long you been here?"
"Oh, I have been here as long as time has existed."
I don't know much about riddles, so my initial reaction is that of humor.
I laugh.
"you're funny, man."
His face is as serious as a tumor.
"Please, come in. I believe you will find my products to be obtuse."
"Obtuse?"
He motions me in. And I follow.
His kiosk is shaped differently than most I have seen.
"How many pieces of me are these worth," I say as if I'm pulling out a metaphorical wallet.
"These are free of charge."
I look at him alarmingly.
"Huh?"
"With this, we have a life lived to the fullest without the usage of outside forces."
I scratch my head.
"Outside forces?"
"Phones, media, etc."
"Oh?"
We walk to the next kiosk.
"This is working for decades, taking pride in your job."
"I don't understand."
He motions me to another kiosk.
"And this gives you pleasure from being around those you love."
I look down the hall and notice 100s of kiosks in a store I thought was much smaller.
"How do you have so many kiosks, but they're all free of charge?"
"Because happiness is subjective. It can come from tiniest grains to the largest of planets."
"Subjective?"
He walks over to me, placing his hand on my shoulder.
"Happiness is not an inalienable right. It is something that you must find for yourself. It's all up to you."
I look at the kiosks, then the exit to the shop.