Challenge #01566-D105: The Kindness of Strangers
A true pessimist is always pleasantly surprised. So if you're ever disappointed or upset at something, take heart! Some part of you believes in a better world. -- RecklessPrudence
The collapsible booth on Babel Avenue[1] simply had one word on its placard. Cheer. It was written in large, friendly letters and the person inside it bore a beatific expression and watched those passing by without the slightest hint of flagging spirits.
Rael, on his way to the Temple of Feasts[2], could afford as many as five Minutes before his economic situation became worrisome again, but... this piqued his curiosity. He held up a Minute coin and asked, "Do you cheer people up or egg them on?"
"I spread whatever cheer happens to be necessary at the time. You'd be surprised how many people need some cheer."
Ah, so she was offering cheer as a purchasable emotion. He still had a very few seconds. "How would that work on someone with a high metabolism, a low pay bracket, and a complicated lawsuit away from knowing anything at all about my own basic biology?"
"I think I could do that in three minutes," said the woman. "Starting with an identity check. You are Rael the Faiize, aren't you?"
"Yes," he said. And all that that implied. Most-failure success. The product with the most quirks, hiccups, and outright system failures. The one with the features that were all bugs. That Faiize from all the breakdown vidbites. And also, in his nightmares, the one most likely to reach his expiry date the soonest. A worry he shared with his other two test-sibs, Ayg and Kint. Planned obsolescence was a hell of a thing when it happened in constructed cogniscents.
"Today," she said, "You are alive. Every minute in which that continues is a blessing. And, in turn, every minute is blessed by you. Just now, you have chosen to improve a life despite the fact that your metabolism must be harming you even as you stand. And if you face disappointment... then you believe in a better world." She smiled, and indicated the can that served as her til.
"You're good," said Rael. "How did you get like this?"
"Years of hauling myself through depression."
He gave her four Minutes, and hurried towards the Temple of Feasts. One life made better. That was why Theists even tried to make any kind of difference. Rael could have chosen to charge higher prices and remain in his tank until summoned. He could have chosen any kind of expertise area that he was already competent in. But he didn't do that. He made the most out of his time because every minute could be his last. And every Minute was important. He made the most difference in the least amount of time (and Time) for the most people.
Here and now, I am alive. Nik's cousin Gras was flipping three pans whilst agitating a pot, inside the temple. Four other young and hungry JOATs were clustered around a Gyiik-sized bowl. Here and now, I can change things. And, instead of being miserable about his fate, he could look upon his works and feel... empowered.
He took a bowl for himself and said, "Some of everything, please," to Gras. After a moment's thought, as spoons and spatulas danced over his dish, he added, "I don't have the Time for it, but I'd like to send a hot meal to the lady running the Cheer booth. How much would I owe the temple?"
"When you have eaten," said Gras, "You could repair the third rear burner. That should settle the debt."
"My thanks to you and your gods," said Rael. There were days when he could even sing a hymn or two for Nyohmnahm, despite being a determined atheist. She was, after all, one of the few deities that actually did people a favour. If only through her devotees.
[1]: Like Tin Pan Alley, Amalgam Station's Babel Avenue is named after its general auditory effect. It is a Free Speech corridor, where all those who want to try and earn some spare Seconds perform on delineated platforms for whatever the passing populace decides to donate. Alongside the usual preachers, there are stand-up comics, buskers, mimes, and other performance artists eke out a living. Or at least earn their next meal that doesn't come from the Gyiik temple to Nyohmnahm, Goddess of Plenty.
[2]: The aforementioned Gyiik temple in the previous footnote. Gyiiks are heavy-worlders with high metabolisms and an amazingly benevolent planet (visitors are advised to steer clear of the Mityarh Nut trees), and are also blessed with a culture revolving around gastronomy as a holy devotion. At least, it does if the Gyiik in question worships Nyohmnahm. Gyiik devotees of the Goddess of Plenty are excellent chefs, champion gourmet epicureans, and foodies down to the soul. Those with slower metabolisms who visit the temple for a decent feed are advised to share with a friend or nine.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Pitr]
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me.
Send me a prompt [11 remaining prompts!]