Saturday, December 27, 2008
A cult Follower
I entertained a group of children on my walk today. Like all modern children they were loud and boorish, more interested in the possibility of my purchasing cigarettes and lager from the New Deli, Mr. Patel’s open-all-hours newsagents and patisserie., but at least they were open to the idea of free sweets and five minutes of sleight of hand trickery.
They didn’t guess how I’d done the tricks though the loudest boy was confidant he knew, just ‘wasn’t giving away my secrets’ as his dad (’working abroad’ for the last four years) was a member of the magic circle. Little did he know it was real magic I was peddling. Of course that was his card, I’d seen it clutched in a screaming soul when I looked through his eyes.
In the absence of the requested cigarettes and alcohol (I refuse to give these out to minors as it destroys the element of choice) they were kind enough to accept small gifts of sherbet and licorice (I avoid giving chocolate for fear of tempting them to gluttony).
They signed a receipt each, of course, and after checking the acquisitions calendar to check their death dates (I don’t collect the souls of children – that’s another department – so they’re not in my PDA) I gave them each a guaranteed tomorrow.