“There are seven things you can’t live without. I can’t sell you oxygen and water is too heavy to ship.  I can work with the other five.”  Henry Gumpsion hands out a plain card.

I’m forced to look at it.  I look up at the silver hair flowing out of a stetson hat from another century. The old guy could be as old.  Hard to say.  His black eyes are shiny obsidian orbs.  His smile disarming.  His silver eagle came like a sector.

“What ills do need a cure for?  I have them in this black bag! Yep.  You name it.”  His confidence is brimming.

I’m dumbfounded 

“I’m not sure….that I need cured at all…” I struggle to put words together.

“Here is a,sample of Fossimax.  It’ll make you decisive.  Help with the no problem of relating to people you don’t have.”  He smiles and hands over a tiny vial of white powder. 

With a tip of the hat, he is gone.


11 thoughts on “Fossimax

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