buying

His finger hovered over the keyboard. He hesitated, nothing showing on his face, and then moved the cursor to close the screen. It had been like this for days. Since he had touched down in the land of free, the enveloping, suffocating power of its biggest overlord had been upon him. They had perfected it to a science, and they could no longer control it. It controlled them. But it did so so subtly. So beautifully. From the outside, you would appreciate and value it.

He had landed in the airport, ears popping, head hurting, eyes bloodshot. For the first time, he had really understood what bloodshot meant. His eyes were red, in different places. He worried as he looked in the mirror, rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, but the red would not go away. He had never seen it like this. Never seen it this bad. The bathroom was clean, but his feet crunched as they pulled away from the sticky floor. The counter was laden with water, falling out from the rounded sinks. He walked out of the airport bathroom, people walking by in droves, in silence, in solitude. The last was imposed, sometimes self imposed, sometimes elsewise. It did not matter how though, the difference was minute. Blank, passive faces. Impressionless gaits. He could smell a product of the greatest force to exist in this country as he passed by a McDonalds, and then some other restaurants. The food smelled good, tempting, tantalizing. He had had dinner just a few hours ago, and he had been doing not much else other than sitting for the last fifty or so hours, but his stomach grumbled. Watching as he passed by the food court, grumbling grumpily.

He had been opening the pages, every now and then, increasing with more frequency. Because the power that held sway over this beautiful land was pressing down upon him, forcing him to believe what the others already did. Even though his time away had led him to see the light, he still felt the urge.

He opened the tab again, typed in what was required, and then sat watching the screen in silence. Around him, his hotel room was stifled by quiet. Thick, heavy, suffocating, silence. This, if he clicked it, would erase it, would make him feel a warmth in the pit of his stomach, a satisfaction in his soul. His fingers were a little cold. The air conditioner hummed heavily. Otherwise, stifling silence. 

Again, the click of the keyboard as he closed the tab. A larger, sharper sound, as he shut the laptop, folded it in on itself. Soon it was open again, the warm glow like a hearth on a frigid winter day. Inviting him in. The promise of happiness, of satisfaction. He took a deep, long sigh. Looked at the screen, rubbed his eyes. Felt the loneliness in the pit of his stomach, and the yearning in his heart. He looked at the screen one last time. One long, yearning look. Then he clicked the order button.