A Very Short Story

Billy Fizz took himself on a morning stroll to clear the cobwebs his spider brain had woven in its busy night. His sticky eyes and leaden muscles cleansed and stretched while his stale lungs inhaled the sweet, dew laden air of first light.

In each step, he stole a Billy sized packet of oxygen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide and ozone and gave it back as he stole the next, imparting a tiny bit of himself in each transaction. Not once did Billy ask the dawn if it minded his company, or the air if it was happy with the exchanges.

In his mind Billy was simply doing, not negotiating — not taking – and giving without contract. As he walked he passed a sign asking him to be alert and unconsciously appraised himself. The next time he was asked to be alert he simply appraised the sign and dismissed it.

The dawn was not mindful of Billy Fizz and the air took no slight. The path took no toll and the birds sought no praise. When Billy completed his walk he checked the time and reckoned the whole of his experience in minutes.