Rumors, Truths, and Lies of the Market
* “You know when you have something, it is never enough? You have it, you done it, you move on to wanting more. When you lost it, and made clear you lost it, you want it back. Simply to have what you had regarded worthless before. I once had power. I once was known. I had it, money, women, but most of all the power. I was untouchable, or that is what I thought. I had traded in rare artifacts that some were true, but most of them were replicas that were crafted to fool those who I sucker in buying. Never could they catch me, because I had always a scapegoat and always a cat’s paw to take the fall. That is until I found the Market. My wares were valued, because I wanted to impress them. I thought I had caught them off guard but I was not aware they been watching me. They had my house on tap. They had been watching me ever since the Market came to my mind. When they caught me, they did not kill me. No that would have been too simple. They tortured me. They had drugged me and had locked me in a room where my flesh was pierced with metal threads. When the drugs wore off, I was in a web of agony. Any movement was felt as the thread would dig deeper into my flesh. If I thought I managed to control my movements not to move, they would send current into the wires to cause me to flitch. They kept me alive intravenously and kept me there for what felt like years. Eventually they freed me. Ten years of them keeping me alive in that hell. There was no escaped, although I been told that was a minor infraction, anything greater and I would have suffered others far greater than this.”
- Words of a gnarly, heavily scarred transient drinking from a brown, paper bag next to a light trash can in front of a dark alley.
- Words of a gnarly, heavily scarred transient drinking from a brown, paper bag next to a light trash can in front of a dark alley.