The Apple Salesman
rating: +12+x

If, one day, a salesman from faraway lands knocked upon my door and offered up from the finest of his apples
one crisper than the morning air in March, one sweeter than innocence, one round and wax-shone to perfection, a crystal ball;

and said, "with a bite of this apple, this sweet, succulent, golden nugget of a fruit,
you will attain all you desire, and come away changed to whichever form suits you, given all the traits and character of the man you would rather be-
now name your price."

The question then is not whether or not I would hear him out, or shoo him away;
It is not whether or not I would take the apple, or decline
It isn't even what price I would pay.
In this case, there is no question.

For I know that given the chance, wrapped in the shape of an apple, to change — I would take it. Any day of the week, any time of day, no matter how I felt, for any price, I would take it.

The question then is not what I would gain —
what sort of traits I would endow myself with,
what sort of man I would become.
It is not whether or not I would change many things, or few
It isn't even whether or not I would be sated, or fraught with regret.
In this case, there is no question.

For I know that no matter what I decided to change upon my first bite through the apple's gently thick skin to the flowing juices below, I would still be myself
(Flawed)
Myself
(Imperfect)
Myself
(Irreparable)
Myself.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License