“Do you enjoy being a walking stereotype?”
“Do you enjoy being a walking stereotype?” You shake your head at him, itching for a verbal tumble to take the strain off your mind.
“Pardon?” His thick brows lowered over his eyes, casting a shadow over his dark eyes. It leaves you with a strange feeling. A primitive urge to turn and run out the tent hits you. Like the feeling that comes over you when the teacher casts her wondering eyes over you, and you knew she was going to call on you. You want to duck and hide from her view, but you were never one to listen to that little voice.
“I think you heard me,” you wave a hand around the tent.
“You trying to pick up some girls?” You sneer, looking around as you spoke. You see some hanging rugs and large clay vases. No real merchandise to sell. “Sell some girls?” You pluck a nerve that would most men angry, wanting to see what the big guy would do. You inwardly smirk, what could he do? You were in the mall parking lot.
“I would never.” He unfolded his arms and walked towards you. You stand your ground and looked up at him. Unafraid and wishing to stir up a bit more trouble before you walked out.
“Then what do you sell exactly?” You poke a nearby orange and brown rug, “Old rugs.”
“I sell dreams little man.” He said, his check twitching as he spoke. A smile tugging on your lips you go for one last hit before you left to get your phone.
“Wet dreams?” You give a big fake laugh. “How much for Jasmine?”
“You want a female. I can make you female.” He growls at you sounding like a tiger. You snort at him, who was the man kidding. Feeling better after pulling the big guys tail a few times. You turn your back to him.
“Have fun with that. Scammer.” Waving your hand, you get only a few steps before you stop, and not because you want too.
“Only those who have a wish can enter my tent.” A billowing black cloud comes around you from the corner of your eyes. You tug at your legs, arms, but you can't move. Even your mouth felt sewn shut. Only your eyes could move, blinking couldn't free you from the rising smoke. Your heart starts to beat a hard rhythm in your chest. Each pump of your blood feeling like a fist punching into your chest.
“There is one exception.” The bald man emerges from the smoke, no he forms out of it. His waist and down were it! Your eyes shake and blinking as hard and as fast as you can. Doesn't make the cloud disappear or take away the angry face of the bald man from in front of you.
“Those in need of a lesson. Are you in need of a lesson, boy?” He leans his face forward. The angry wrinkling of his nose almost touches your frozen one. He blows black smoke across your face. Your mouth loosing's and your mouth gaps open a few tomes to test it.
“Are you in need of a lesson, boy?” He repeats his question. His dark eyes drilling into you with a soul pricing gaze. It's like he already knows the answer, but what will you say when face with this?
Written by psto1464 on 18 May 2020
