Three Days of Happiness

21
“You wanna sell some of your lifespan?”
My reply came a bit late, thrown off by the unnatural combination
of words.
“Lifespan?”, I asked back, intending to confirm if heard him right.
“Yeah, lifespan. No, but I’m not buying. I know it sells for a lot,
though.”
It didn’t seem likely that the heat was making my ears play tricks on
me.
I thought for a moment.
A fear of old age must have sent this old man off his rocker - that
was the first conclusion I came to.
Seeing my face, the old man spoke.
“Can’t blame you for thinking I’m joking. Or thinking this old coot’s
gone senile. But if you want to entertain my nonsense, go take a
look, I’ll tell you where. You’ll see I’m not lying.”
I heard out his explanation, all with a grain of salt. In short, this is
what he told me.
On the fourth floor of a building not too far from here, there’s a
shop that’ll buy your lifespan.
How much it sells for varies between people; it’ll be more if the life
that would lie ahead of you is more fulfilling.
“I don’t really know you much at all, but you don’t look like a bad
guy, and I guess you do like books. Must have some value, right?”
I nostalgically recalled the lesson I heard back in elementary school,
and thought how familiar it all was.