The Baker, The Butcher and The Brewer, Part Four – The Brewer 5
Serial Fiction
He smiled.
She smiled harder. She pointed at her throat making a sign that she had lost her voice.
The Brewer nodded in understanding.
‘It’s poetic not having to talk to people.’ She wrote.
He smiled and nodded.
She picked up a wood-carved giraffe from the table and examined it.
She drew a currency sign with a question mark behind it and showed it to him.
He showed her the palm of his hand with five fingers, joining in the silent conversation. In the next moment he realized she was not deaf but it was too late, she was laughing.
‘This is better than going to school.’ She wrote.
‘Once I drank a boiling cup of water to evoke symptoms of sickness so I can avoid going to school.
It worked. It worked!’ Jumped in front of her Pink Socks.
She smiled.
The Brewer smiled.
‘Smiles sink into your subconscious.’ She wrote.
‘Some of us chase the wind, the rest are chased by the wind.’ The Brewer finally spoke.
‘I get a headache from smiling.’ Wedged in Pink Socks.
‘He is like a hallucination.’ She wrote and smiled.
‘Hallucinations are visual migraines.’ Filled in Pink Socks.
She put the giraffe down.
‘Farewell in the present!’ She wrote and left.
‘We percept the present three seconds at a time. Hence a smile can only be three seconds long. Or anything for that matter.’ Went on Pink Socks.
The Brewer was left with the halo effect of a smile.
‘She is a morning rather than an evening one. She is…’ He attempted.
‘Times are different! It is not as simple as listening to the old man with the longest beard.’ Pink Socks was mumbling his pains away. ‘I am going to do some investive reading.’ He concluded.
‘It was only a matter of time before his (Pink Socks’) wire spokes fly off.’ Thought the Brewer.
For the next month or so the Brewer cruised all the flea markets in his vicinity. Every day was more inspiring than the previous.
He and Pink Socks became friends. They always had their tables close by. Pink Socks knew everything about the business and about life. He had made a lifestyle choice and was happy with it. He also knew everyone. His social circle was boundless. He was pure fun and smiles. People loved him. He always had something interesting to say.
The Brewer’s mind-set and mood benefited greatly from this free radical. He had found an inspiring conversationalist who had escaped the bad-luck-spot.
Once Pink Socks brought a bottle of wine. He claimed it was a very rare and expensive bottle. Once he had some in him he opened up and told only the truth about the world.
‘From the old wine makers I know that true wine is bitter.’ He started mildly. ‘She is moderately looking and decently chubby. I would go through her love portal.’
The Brewer smiled.
‘No! No! No! No! No!’ Pink Socks snapped back. ‘The market is like a balloon floating inside an underground river of brutal thought. There are more balloons in the river. Outside of the balloon only the kids are having fun. I build a kids soccer field once. It had a sign ‘mass sport equals strong folk’. You can only have limited success outside of the balloon. Inside everything is possible. It’s too obvious. It’s like swimming with a cigarette in the mouth. Can you swim with a cigarette in your mouth! I can’t! That is the only way out there. The only way! Inside here I know everyone and everything. Inside is comfortable. Outside is brutal, poison. Poison!’ He stressed.
That was the only time Pink Socks spoke with negativity about the world. The Brewer never saw him again.
Stay tuned for next week’s installment of The Baker, The Butcher and The Brewer – Tuesday, February 16th.
previous chapter: The Baker, The Butcher and The Brewer – The Brewer 4
all chapters: The Baker, The Butcher and The Brewer
more by PETER ODEON
photograph by Aaren Burden
