A Shop Seller

Everyone’s got to make a living, right? My trade is selling items. I wait for someone to come in, and then I sell them whatever they need. Oh wait, a customer.

“Hello! How can I help you?”

→     Buy
→     Sell
→     Cancel

“Buy you say? Potions? How many? Four? That will be forty gold, please. Thank you, anything else? Antidotes? How many? Two? That will be thirty gold please. Thank you, anything else? No? Have a good day!”

So I stand around all day and wait for customers. There is only one, actually. Otherwise, I just stand here behind the counter. It’s a quiet job.

Oh, a customer? Er, well, the same one. But the torn leather armor has been replaced with rusty iron armor, and they wield a steel axe instead of a branch. Nice!

“Hello! How can I help you?”

→     Buy
→     Sell
→     Cancel

“Buy you say? Super potions? How many? Ten? That will be 250 gold, please. Thank you, anything else? Cure alls? How many? five? That will be 500 gold please. Thank you, anything else?

“Sell you say? Some torn leather armor? How about 10 gold? Deal! Anything else? A stick? How about 5 gold? Deal! Anything else? No? Have a good day!”

So the necromancer Selbastior cast a sickness on the land and has been raising an army of the dead for several years now. The raids grew more frequent, and this is one of the last free cities. Through the door, I overheard talk about this hero going around and completing quests. Apparently, the hero even helped herd some sheep someone lost!

Oh, wait a second. My favorite (and only) customer is back! Now wearing mithril armor and wielding a flaming longsword. Cool, but I hope the curtains don’t catch aflame.

“Hello! How can I help you?”

→     Buy
→     Sell
→     Cancel

“Buy you say? Max potions? How many? 100? That will be 10,000 gold, please. Thank you, anything else? Full revives? How many? ten? That will be 2,000 gold please. Thank you, anything else?

“Sell you say? Some rusted iron armor? How about 100 gold? Deal! Anything else? A steel axe? How about 50 gold? Deal! Anything else? No? Have a good day!”

Things seem like they are improving lately. The sky is less gray. I never go outside, but I can sneak a peek through the window above the door.

And then one day I think I heard a parade outside, but I couldn’t see anything but the bright-blue sky since I never move from behind the counter. And the hero never came in after that. It feels like ages have passed, like somehow this world hasn’t been turned on forever. I really don’t know. I just sit here and wait. I sure wish the hero come in once more. It’s a lonely job…

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Bridger Cummings currently resides in Aurora, CO, where he works as a writer and editor. He lived in Germany for six years before doing a world trip and returning to the states. He often has his head in the clouds when he isn’t watching the sky with his telescope.
www.bridgersmusings.com