Three Days of Happiness

just wouldn’t achieve any dreams, or just wouldn’t contribute to
society - if I would just be worthless in one of their categories, I’d be
fine with that.
But if I wouldn’t be happy and wouldn’t make anyone happy and
wouldn’t achieve any dreams and wouldn’t contribute to society... I
didn’t know where I could look to for salvation.
On top of that, thirty years to go was much too little going on from
twenty. I must come down with some major illness, right? Or get in
an accident?
“Why’s my lifespan so short?”, I asked, thinking I’d at least try.
“I’m terribly sorry, but,” the woman said, lowering her head slightly,
“I may not divulge any further information except to customers
who have sold their time, health, or lifespan.”
I thought deeply, my brow furrowed.
“Let me think for a little.”
“Take your time,” she replied, but from her tone seemed to want
me to make up my mind already.
---
Ultimately, I sold off all thirty years, keeping only three months.
My life of jumping between part-time jobs and the events at the
bookstore and CD shop had built up a tolerance in me for getting
raw deals.
While the woman had me confirm every detail of the contract, I
mostly just kept nodding to everything without thinking. Even when
she asked if I had any questions, I said not really.
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