Everything For Sale | Boogie

“Your loneliness.”

Then the warmth came. A sudden, dizzying joy. Colors brightened. The whiskey tasted like caramel. Mabel’s good eye twinkled. Boogie grinned, paid for his drink with a fifty he found in his coat, and walked outside singing.

Boogie nodded slowly. “What’re you buying?” everything for sale boogie

“Evenin’, Boogie,” said Mabel, the night bartender with one good eye and a sixth sense for trouble. “You look like a man who’s run out of things to sell.”

“Deal,” he whispered.

Boogie laughed, but it came out hollow. “That’s not an object.”

On the 365th morning, he woke up alone in a white room. No doors. No windows. Just a mirror on the ceiling showing his own hollow-eyed face. “Your loneliness

For a year, he lived like a king. Love, travel, laughter. Every sunrise a poem. Every stranger a friend. He called it the best mistake he ever made.