The store of souls

S. give up with his soul

The store of souls

Dancing in the present time

–Read previous article–

–Read in Italian–

So what happen when a soul start dancing in the Present? Most of the time it gets more and more grey, it loses value and attention from possible buyer. People with these souls are alive but without living, they don’t wear out and at the same time they don’t enlighten their souls. Hence, they stay alive submerged in a stagnant small lake with some small fish and frogs feeding the few birds occasionally passing by. That’s the kind of souls you really need when you decide to be a dealer of souls. S. pushed the door to enter, but since his first step inside the store keeper knew who was in front of him. How could you possibly ignore the last link of the chain dragging the stranger souls in the less convenient bodies, generations after generations? In fact, everything happened in such a long period of time that people decided to judge their work in a different way.  

People’sjudgement

Granted that at the beginning it was considered a filthy job, about stealing souls and future of a working class robbed once more time. Then, slowly this judgement changed. Suddenly, there was no working class anymore, nor insignificant groups of workers ready to spend their life for a better future. Hence, coffee bars had been haunted by slot machines. Even the streets always full of shops and stores, step by step were judged obsolete, enslaved to a net able to let people connect without really meet each other. Shoemakers, butchers, fruit vendors and tailors slowly disappeared leaving behind a trail of stores and shops like the one S. was inside. These stores were selling only nightmares, parts of lives already lived or wished to be lived. A whole pulsating organism of smiling appliances.   

The store

In a store you can find new appliances to write faster, then gamble rooms, rooms with names of distant cities but in the end the same sad room. Sometimes some of those rooms were a bit more colourful, but that was the only difference. The atheist paradise began to be slowly the atheist hell. Believing blindly in anything was far worse than believing blindly in something. Sceptics became to invade even universities and step by step reduced science to yes or no questions. Can thispill really cure cancer? Do we invest in culture mean a growth in GDP? Will waste recycling be a good solution, or is better to put everything in a big hole? Questions as such filled up the rooms in universities, before recognised as place for excellence. S. ignored all of this, for him become the best dealer was the only aim, the only purpose, to make dad and grandpa proud of him. One day I will buy my soul back and it will be as nothing happened, he kept repeating. 

Limits choose us

How wrong were all that thoughts mumbled under the hood, and how it’s predictable a dealer’s life. The limit set at the beginning of our journey start being an horizon and it moves, without letting us reach the end, theravine behind the world itself. As children starting making holes searching for worms, they lost themselves finding sea and a harder and harder soil. That days. met his destiny, choosing it with care, emotionless, as his father advised him to.

How can I help you?

asked the rough voice behind the counter. S. without answering wentstraight to the shelf in front of him.

If you need any help, I’m here

The rough voice of the store keeper, not receiving any answer decided to concentrate on the newspaper, between crime reporting news, shaking his head. The boxes in front of S. seemed all the same, only inscriptions on it gave an ambiguous idea of them. “Child, never used” was the most gruesome, but also “bride, heart attack”and “groom, heart attack” close to each other weren’t less crude. There was then all the suicide section. Three shelves with inscriprions as “car,emissions”, “hanged, jail”. Nothing more depressing for a store, if you add to it that none had any intention on buying them, or even touch their boxes. The shop keeper would be happy to remove the captions, but there were required by the law, and souls are a serious matter. At the bottom of each box a bar code defined without dubts the story of each soul. It was necessary just an app for soul- codes.

In love with the picture

Nowadays it’s even easier, the stores almost disappered and all the souls sold on the Internet. Here there was still a time in which a buyer could touch the box, feeling the energy inside, guessing the weight. Probably today it’s easier and more natural. People fall in love with the picture, as it is a sort of porn. When they find out a box with the caption e.g. “Rockfeller, rich man”, they just run to see how many zeroes that soul got. Without even thinking about it, they just got enslaved by the idea of that box they would never buy. As a result all the other souls, even their own soul, suddenly start being useless and impossible to compare with that virtual soul. Oh, it would be amazing if anyone would be touched watching a box with theinscription “generic soul, shoes”, dreaming about me being part of an whole living body. It’s an idea, not likely to happen in reality. Who would be interested in talking shoes, or in a frame which likes to jump from the walls?

Choosing a soul

First it’s useful to say that it’s pretty difficult for everyone choosing a soul. When a person decide to change soul, his own become to spint inside faster and faster, driving the casualty to vomit and loose balance. That’s the reason why S. decided to deprive himself of his own soul in advance. Ultimately he had only few hours before dying, because without soul no one can survive. In fact he felt that inside that store a soul was waiting for him, he was pretty sure about that. He was feeling already cold and closing his eyes sometimes he felt like vanishing, falling heavy inside a hole. When it happened, he opened his eyes again and pinch himself.

Be a soul- less

You can easily recognise soul less people. They walk as zombies, like the one you see in the movie and you must shoot in the head. Pale, they are catathonic and stumble instead of walking straight. That empty eyes are now watching the letters that are the cage of the soul imprisoned inside. “Astrophisicist, promising, pharmacist”, mmm we’re close “Puppeteer, painter”, yes we’re really close “Grey soul, dealer”. Here we are, now we’re speaking. A soul already used before by a dealer, perfectly grey, let’s read the infos:

“Soul grey in color with green and pink veins. Typical of Eastern Pacific, it seems old and without the typical dark shadows of dead souls. Plausibly it comes from a family which passed it on through generations”.

Through generations? That sounds incredible, said S. to himself and how many words just to describe a soul so simple. At the time he couldn’t imagine that, one day, he would be him the one writing about souls way more important that the one of this poor dealer. Suddenly he became to shiver stronger, it was time to choose. Jumping all the boring part about technical characteristics and weight, let’s see the last line:

Soul extracted from the body with Kasterburg method, at the natural death of the patient. Patient died for an heart attack

Name of thepatient: T. H. L. Profession: pills for heart deasease dealer

Yes, this is the right soul

S. give up with his soul
S. give up with his soul

It’s ironic, isn’t it? Imagine a dealer of pills for heart deasease dying for an heart attack. Not to mention his patients, how did react? Again this is the job of a soul dealer, using his own soul to extract other souls, to buy and sell them. By all means, that was the destiny of S. The Kasterburg method then, it was a really old way of extraction. With that in mind, we can only imagine how long that box was there in the store, covered in dust. It’s a good news, kept repeating S. to himself, this soul would be eager to move after being closed for so long. All things considered he couldn’t be more right than that, we souls hate staying sit inside a box. With this in mind, S. bought that poor soul formerly T. H. L. possession for a reasonable price. When at home he showed the box to his father, which smiled satisfied. S. laid in bed, took the death pills and closed his eyes. When he woke up, that grey soul with green and pink veins start being his new traveling companion.

–Continue next week with Sales lessons–

–What is this story about?–

This story will be published once per week only, with all rights reserved for the story and the translations by Flyingstories.org and in the person of Daniele Frau.

All the graphic are handmade and designed with different techniques by Gabriele Manca, DMQ productions, who has all the rights on them. 

Daniele Frau

Daniele Frau is a translator and content writer living in Dubai and coming from an amazing Italian island, Sardinia.

One thought on “The store of souls

HugPosted on  5:43 pm - Dec 30, 2018

Omg that’s so deep, guys. I’m reading and re reading that. Respect from Finland!

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