EmotionPotion™
“Evening Frank, can I get a bottle of Tranquil?”
Frank was the sidewalk vendor on the corner of Oak Lane and 34th street, just up the street from the entrance to Carver’s Park where Samuel spent every evening after work. He sold tiny bottles of EmotionPotion™, bottled emotions ranging from Rage to Bliss and everything else in the emotional spectrum.
“Looks like it’d be a beautiful sunset doesn’t it Sam?” Samuel disliked being called Sam, especially by Frank. He was in his thirties, Sam was far too casual, but for nearly twelve years he had never told Frank this fact. What did it matter?
“I suppose the clouds would make the sunset seem more brilliant, but it doesn’t really affect us since we can’t even see the horizon past the cityscape.” He spoke matter of factly, as did most people not under the influence of the magical emotion elixir that Frank, as well as an army of similar peddlers and multinational corporations sold to the masses. Without it in their system people grew apathetic to a robotic degree.
“We can still see the sky above us eh? And I bet it’ll glow with all the colors of the sun tonight.” Even Frank himself was under the influence of the popular vial of Optimism, it was great for his sales. “You know what Sam? You come here so much, you’ve earned yourself a free bottle.”
Samuel shook Franks hand and took the bottle with a quiet thanks. Gratitude was currently out of stock and he doubted he’d have bought it even if it wasn’t.
Heading down the sidewalk he was forced to step over the extended legs of a man passed out on the ground, an empty vial of Bliss in his hands, the reward for a long day of can collection. People literally were no longer able to afford pity as the big companies had started selling it exclusively to rich buyers with the promise part of the profit went to help whatever cause was popular.
In the park Samuel selected his usual bench, a small wooden affair on top of a grassy hill in nearly the dead center of the park. Carefully he removed the cork from the vial and downed the bittersweet liquid in one draft. Within seconds he let out a small sigh, a smile forming on his lips for the first time that day.
He sat like that for almost ten minutes, just watching the clouds racing overhead. For the first time all day he felt at ease in his own skin, satisfied that his life wasn’t meaningless. Someone had to punch in those numbers. Not everyone could have children or the whole planet would be swarmed with them. He was just a cog in the machine, but someone had to be his particular cog.
Life was pretty good.
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