<<Boys and girls, what do you think we mean when we speak about ‘sales’? C., please.>>
The guy seated in the second row raises his head, positive about his answer.
<<Sales are contracts, commitments between a negotiator (the dealer) and a client exchanging a good or service.>>
<<Right, excellent, well done as always.>>
This reward comes from the voice over my soles. Then, after a quick pause, the voice continues.
<<Whatever you learn here and you’ll do tomorrow in the market is not purely a transaction. We provide more than that as we give our clients what we call our specialistic point of view.
Please don’t picture yourself as simple merchants, vendors, no. No, you are the Knights of the round table. You are young Columbus, eager for the adventure ahead.
You are leaders. You are messengers of the New. Everything around you might soon appear to you as a big market, and you will be the homines economici of it.
You will risk if required, following your dealer’s instinct. Slowly you will notice something, that is, you’re not just a negotiator, a medium, but the sale itself. You’re going to be the scale, its tip even. You are the future. Your well-combed hair and the sharp teeth speak for you. Some among you can object…>>
And now the entire room seems to be closed into a long breath, a silence filled with curved shoulders and noses leaning forward, making the wooden benches creak.
<<… that the market is almost saturated. Who wants to buy a soul, nowadays? Someone will tell you that the souls’ market is failing because there are too many dealers and too few buyers. I’m here to tell you that you will decide.
You and only you will make the difference going out there and doing your job correctly. You’re greedy, you want more, and you’re going to have a pair of keys on your desk soon. That will be the keys to your own business! The access of your freedom.>>
The sales lesson seems slowly going to an end, to its climax. Some of the students begin to have watery eyes. Some of them even want to start an applause, but the voice continues.
<<That’s why the talent scouts are always around, searching for people like you. I’m speaking to you, fresh meat ready to challenge the market in an arena soak with blood.
It won’t be easy, mind my words, but it’s because you want already to make the first step that you’re here. This is the Animae; here we’re future-oriented and believe me, the future hasn’t got any gentle curves. The future is made of pure straight lines! Straight enough, those lines, to destroy, demolish, dig.
Progress is a fast train without a driver. Believe me, some of you will find themselves unease listening to the truth, and it’ll be difficult for them to give up their souls.>>
The desks are rumbling and creaking, nervous arms and legs with their wooden sounds resound in the Animae University Auditorium. The sales class is one of the most difficult, everyone says.
<<Undoubtedly, the future doesn’t belong to these people, a group of insensitive souls, small houses in which the warmth of security doesn’t leave space for the truth. A soul needs space to develop itself, windows to see the world and large footsteps to make its existence eternal.>>
The audience opens the mouths, amazed by all this high philosophy and some flies decide to enter and explore the teeth inside. Yes, the sales class is not for everyone to attend.
<<Consequently, if the money rule the society, our role will be to make money prosper. Without money, with no debts, there is no future nor hope.>>
The audience shows the typical blank stare, the robotic smile, but their minds are already elsewhere. Twenty minutes. That’s all they’ve got, the maximum level of attention of the Nation’s future.
The soft noise of pens and notebooks breaks the silence in the room and the students try to stay awake on this sunny afternoon. S. knows he has to be brief, or he’ll lose them. The sales lesson is coming to an end.
<<We will start with soul migration to better understand where the souls come from. This is the first and most crucial step to take if you want to be a souls’ dealer.
During a war in a center African country, when the doctor U. made the discovery, we established what we call Animisics nowadays. The famous Diary of souls is our starting point and will be our original text.>>
It’s time to greet the crowd. S. feels around him an utter shortage of escaping brains. The class is dismissed.
<<Well, guys and girls, it’s enough for today. Rest well and we’ll see you tomorrow morning.>>
The future leaves the room, while the present stows his papers back in the bag. Finally, we’re out of the room, then down the stairs, in the metro and on the way home.
The door creaks. Someone has to grease it. The kitchen is dirty, someone has to call the cleaners. The bed, well, the bed is all right. Only a few minutes passed and I can see the honey-colored bed sheets going rhythmically up and down.
The man with pointed mustaches, professor and dealer S., maybe is dreaming about numbers. Or perhaps he’s dreaming about something he doesn’t know yet. The famous future he’s always speaking about.
The alarm is deafening, waking even the neighbor. He stops the alarm, prepares the coffee, then back to the metro. Arrived at the university, he takes the stairs and finds in front of him the same faces of the day before. Today he doesn’t have to make the sales team. Today he has just one more lesson to teach.
If you landed on this page, but you don’t have any clue of what this is all about, please read what is this story about.And remember that this is a bilingual project, so you can read it in English and Italian.
This story has been published once per week from October 2018 to October 2019, with all rights reserved for the story and its translations by Flyingstories and in the person of Daniele Frau.
All the graphics are handmade and designed with different techniques by Gabriele Manca, DMQ productions, who reserves all rights.