I went to the store, the one with unseen things.
On its shelves, things like courage and honesty. Justice, honor, compassion, charity, humility…etc.
Endless shelves with endless things.
Free samples were given out, of course, for the people who couldn’t make up their mind.
I tried wisdom, and it was alright.
I tried patience, but I found it’s taste to be a little dry and chalky. The trashcan had never before been so utilized by me.
Perhaps it was time to buy more politeness, I thought to myself.
But I wanted to buy love, it was for that reason that I had come to the store.
It was on display in the window.
Shining as brightly as ever. I knew it was what I wanted from the moment it caught my eye.
It was above the envy and vanity, the anger.
I found it inside the store, and eagerly I picked it up, curling my fingers delicately around it.
And I thought to myself.
It would soon be mine. I would never give it away.
I would put it in a box, visible to my eyes only. No one would ever know that I had it in my possession.
And all was well in the line to buy it.
The people in front of me had such things as anger and resentment.
And I wondered what use they had for those things.
It was clear to see just how much it had cost them by the look on their faces, as the total price appeared.
Grimaces. Scornful looks.
But I was not afraid to ring up my item; proudly, I handed love to the cashier.
And the cashier scanned it: beep.
But the price did not appear.
The cashier looked at me with astonishment, and then scanned it again.
Again, nothing, no price appeared.
Frustrated with this message, the cashier called the manager, to complain about the product.
He said, “What’s the price of love?”
And the manager could not tell him.