《This story has no meaning》


 Chapter

    Today is April 27, 1930. The weather is mild with a hint of cloud. The weatherman announced that it might rain in the middle of the afternoon, but I didn¡¯t like his moustache since it curls down slightly which doesn¡¯t fit my current mood of being perfectly content with my life.


    In my pocket, I can hear the sound of coins hitting coins while sliding against paper bills. There is $42.48 to be exact, or in other words, my two-week salary minus the money I had just spent on a morning coffee. I¡¯m a bookkeeper for a toilet seat wholesaler and distributor. The office I work at is in the city and I always finish by 5, so I am perfectly content with my professional situation as well as my salary.


    Although, I¡¯m not really thinking about this for any other reason than because I have $42.48, since today is Sunday and I don¡¯t have to go to the office. Not that I would be particularly sad to go either way since I like my job.


    I don¡¯t have to go to church either. Not because I¡¯m not a good Christian or not religious, but because in the modern world, you don¡¯t have to be an assiduous attendant of the church to consider yourself a good Christian. I go about every other week, or sometime during weekdays to talk to the pastor. Not to confess about anything really, I just like him and we were in the same football team back in middle school so it¡¯s nice to reminisce. He also sometimes invites me to have dinner with him and his lovely wife of 5 years. They look adorable together and I¡¯m not jealous of them at all, since, at 23 years of age, I¡¯m a happily eligible bachelor, currently by choice.


    I go on dates once in a while either with friends of friends, women I met at the coffee shop or through whatever connection we might have. One time I went on a date with a woman called Margaret whom I met at a ball game. It was an enjoyable dinner date, but neither of us felt appropriate to ask for a second date, so we called it quit.


    I took a deep breath and the early spring scent filled my nostrils. I smelled a mix of pollen and petrol since I was still walking right beside the street, but underneath a burgeoning oak tree. The petrol smell might have been a bother before, but it is simply a fact of life that we require a meaningful mode of transportation and cars are a much better alternative to horse carriage since they don¡¯t litter the street with their dropping in the streets. I don¡¯t mind horses themselves though. I just think that their excrement doesn¡¯t smell very enjoyable.


    Apart from these two smells, something else caught my nose. It was sweet and I liked sweet things. I looked across the street and spotted a caramelized apple cart with a sign advertising them for $0.05. It wasn¡¯t expensive at all for caramelized apples and it was still a while before lunchtime so there was nothing wrong with having a bit of a snack. I considered crossing the street here and there, but I reconsidered since that wouldn¡¯t be very considerate since the street was busy with cars and all the automobilists followed the rules of law appropriately. It would also be a shame if a policeman was to see me, I could be charged with jaywalking, which although a minor offence, costs a pretty penny. A pretty penny that would be better spent on a caramelized apple.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I walked down the street for a few seconds to a crosswalk and waited for the pedestrian light to come on and crossed the street at a leisurely pace, but not so leisurely as to potentially impede the automobilists from a swift return to their usual speed. Being an occasional automobilist myself, I understand how frustrating that can be when a pedestrian takes more than their allotted time. It has occurred to me to start driving before my dedicated time, but the thought that I might occur a ticket or inadvertently injure someone stopped me on every occasion. Except perhaps once when the light was turning orange, instead of slowing down I accelerated and crossed the stop line just as it turned red. It should have earned me a $5.00 fine, but the policeman was a fair person and understood the circumstance of my infraction and let me go with a warning.


    Finally crossing the street I made my way down the sidewalk to the caramelized apple cart. It smelled very sweet, even more than when I was across the street which made sense since I was much closer than I was before. My stomach didn¡¯t grumble since I already had breakfast and lunch was still a while away, but I did find the treat thoroughly appetising.


    ¡°Would you like an apple caramelized, sir?¡±


    The caramelized apple stand¡¯s clerk asked me.


    I was taken aback for a moment.


    ¡°Do you not mean ¡®caramelized apple¡¯, my good man?¡±


    I asked him, confused.


    He laughed earthily before pointing the signboard where the words ¡®Apple Caramelized¡¯ were written.


    ¡°My daughter made the sign board for me but made a mistake spelling the words. I found it so cute that I decided to just start calling that way.¡±


    I nodded at his explanation.


    ¡°That is very cute. Yes, I will have an ¡®apple caramelized¡¯.¡±


    I said with a chuckle.


    The man laughed along and prepared the snack before handing it to me.


    ¡°That will be $0.05, my good sir.¡±


    I dug through my pocket and after fiddling for a few seconds, I found a nickel. I also grasped a penny and handed the two coins and handed them to the man.


    ¡°Here, for you and your daughter.¡±


    I found his story about Apple Caramelized amusing and felt only appropriate to tip the man. Perhaps next time I want a caramelized apple, I should stop here again, for another amusing story? Unless that was his only amusing story, in that case, I¡¯ll only come here twice on purpose and only stop here again if I pass by and want a caramelized apple.


    The man thanked me and went back to tending his caramel so it wouldn¡¯t harden in its pot.


    I waved him goodbye and went on with my day.