Faerie Tale

by Simon von Wolkenstein

Murray was an intricate man. His heart was coiled like a clock spring and he carried this tension into all his business dealings. He never smiled at strangers and seldom smiled at friends but he made an effort for acquaintances. For people who were neither here nor there were Murray’s bread and butter. These people paid his way through life.

Murray always worked with a whiteboard which he would unveil after the final bowl of nibbles. Standing there before his little audience of would-be-hopefuls he would launch into the usual speil and blind them with graphs and charts and big words and the if-I-can-you-can-chance to be rich that even the cynics secretly kept rolled up inside. He wasn’t rich but to the simple folk he appeared like a god. He was in control of his finances, able to link his expenditure charts to the vague pyramid selling plans he hawked as decent hard-working small businesses that were just waiting for the right little man to sign up for.

One evening, after his little finale, and the applause from the damned, and after they all pushed and shoved to be in the first three to sign up to win that badge of insignificance he noticed a young woman hanging back but still eager to join in. He finished his duties and left the others fighting over a pamphlet and he said,

“;Hello, did you enjoy my talk”

“No,” she said, and then leaning closer said to him, “I can see that you are not a happy man, and further, I know that a man with no soul such as yourself lives off the sweat of others and the future is long but not bright.” she paused and then added as if as an afterthought — “Do you need a cleaner, for free?”

And before he could say no, he said yes and the woman moved in that night complete with a dufflebag of cleaning equipment. It was all sudden and unplanned and there was no chart or graph to allay his fears and that night he slept very badly indeed.