The rain tasted of iron. I tasted it on my tongue. It was cold. It was sharp. It was mine.

I held the coat. It was heavy. It was red. Not bright red. Deep red. Like old blood. Like dried wine. It hung from my arm. It weighed on me. It pulled at my wrist. It did not let go.

I walked. My boots sank in the mud. The mud was black. It was thick. It sucked at my feet. I pulled free. I walked on. The road was long. It wound up the hill. It wound down the valley. It wound around me.

I am a merchant. I sell things. I sell silence. I sell time. I sell the space between heartbeats. I do not sell coats. I never sold coats. But I held this one. I carried it. I carried it for miles. I carried it for days. I did not know how many days. Time was broken. Time was a river without banks. It flowed sideways. It flowed back.

The shop was closed. The sign swung. It made no sound. The glass was dark. It reflected me. I looked at the glass. I saw my face. It was old. It was young. It was not my face. It was a mask. I wore the mask. I had always worn it.

I opened the door. The bell did not ring. The air inside was still. It was thick. It smelled of dust. It smelled of lavender. It smelled of fear. I stepped in. The floorboards creaked. They whispered. They told me lies. They said I was late. They said I was early. They said I was never here.

I placed the coat on the counter. It settled. It spread. It bloomed. The red faded. It turned grey. It turned ash. It was gone. The coat was gone. I was alone.

I turned around. Someone stood behind me. He was tall. He was thin. He wore a suit. The suit was blue. It was the color of the sky before a storm. He had no face. Where his face should be, there was only glass. Dark glass. Reflective glass. I saw my own eyes in his face. I saw my own fear. I saw my own greed.

He was my teacher. He was my master. He had taught me. He had taught me how to sell. He had taught me how to lie. He had taught me how to survive. He had taught me to choose.

He raised a hand. He pointed at the coat. Or where the coat had been. He moved his lips. No sound came out. But I heard him. I heard it in my bones. I heard it in the marrow.

*You chose.*

I looked down. My hands were empty. My hands were shaking. I had dropped the coat. I had let it go. I had let it fade. I had chosen to let it go.

Why?

I did not know. I wanted it. I wanted the power. I wanted the weight. I wanted to be the one who held the red. I wanted to be the one who bore the burden. I wanted to be the one who defined the price.

But I let it go. I let it become ash. I let it become nothing.

The man in the blue suit stepped closer. The floorboards groaned. The dust motes danced. They were alive. They were watching. They were judging.

I felt a pain. It was in my chest. It was a sharp pain. It was a hot pain. It was a love pain. It was the pain of losing something I did not understand. It was the pain of choosing to lose it.

I looked at the mirror. I looked at the face in the glass. It was not my face. It was the face of the merchant. It was the face of the liar. It was the face of the one who sells silence.

I hated it. I hated the face. I hated the smile. I hated the eyes. I hated the way they never blinked. I hated the way they never wept. I hated the way they never saw.

I raised my hand. I raised my fist. I threw it at the glass. I threw it with all my strength. I threw it with all my rage. I threw it with all my grief.

The glass did not break. The glass did not crack. The glass absorbed the blow. It swallowed my fist. It swallowed my anger. It swallowed my self.

I pulled my hand back. It was numb. It was cold. It was not my hand. It was the hand of the merchant. It was the hand of the one who sells.

The man in the blue suit smiled. I saw the smile in the glass. It was a sad smile. It was a kind smile. It was the smile of a teacher who knows his student has failed. But it was not a failure. It was a success. It was the success of the end.

I looked at the counter. The coat was gone. The ash was gone. The space was empty. The space was full. The space was me.

I had chosen. I had chosen to be empty. I had chosen to be the vessel. I had chosen to be the hole. I had chosen to be the absence.

I walked out. The door opened. The rain was still falling. The rain tasted of iron. I let it hit my face. I let it wash me. I let it clean me. I let it erase me.

I walked down the hill. I walked into the valley. I walked into the fog. The fog was white. The fog was thick. The fog was blind.

I did not know where I was going. I did not know where I had come from. I did not know who I was. I knew only that I was light. I knew only that I was free. I knew only that I was gone.

The merchant was gone. The liar was gone. The one who sold was gone.

Only the choice remained. Only the red remained. Only the weight remained.

I carried it. I carried it in my heart. I carried it in my soul. I carried it in my bones.

It was heavy. It was red. It was mine.

I walked on. The rain stopped. The sun came out. The sun was pale. The sun was weak. The sun was dying.

I walked on. I walked into the light. I walked into the dark. I walked into the in-between.

I was the in-between. I was the space. I was the silence.

I sold nothing. I bought nothing. I was nothing. I was everything.

I was the coat. I was the ash. I was the red.

I was the choice.

I was the end.

The man in the blue suit was gone. The shop was gone. The road was gone. The rain was gone.

Only I remained. Only the choice remained. Only the weight remained.

I held it. I held it tight. I held it forever.

I was the merchant. I was the master. I was the one who chose.

I chose to be the red. I chose to be the weight. I chose to be the end.

I was the distant nightmare. I was the close dream. I was the truth.

I was the one who let go. I was the one who held on. I was the one who was both.

I was the one who was neither.

I was the one who was everything.

I was the one who was nothing.

I was the one who was me.

I was the one who was not me.

I was the one who was the choice.

I was the choice.

The rain started again. The rain tasted of iron. The rain tasted of blood. The rain tasted of life.

I walked. I walked. I walked.

I did not stop. I could not stop. I would not stop.

I was the walk. I was the path. I was the destination.

I was the beginning. I was the middle. I was the end.

I was the story. I was the tale. I was the myth.

I was the lie. I was the truth. I was the silence.

I was the sound. I was the noise. I was the quiet.

I was the light. I was the dark. I was the grey.

I was the red. I was the ash. I was the nothing.

I was the everything.

I was the one who held the coat. I was the one who let it go. I was the one who was the coat.

I was the one who was the ash. I was the one who was the nothing.

I was the one who was the everything.

I was the choice.

I was the end.

I was the beginning.

I was the now.

I was the here.

I was the me.

I was the not-me.

I was the us.

I was the them.

I was the all.

I was the none.

I was the choice.

The rain stopped. The sun rose. The sun was bright. The sun was hot. The sun was alive.

I walked. I walked into the light. I walked into the world.

I was alive. I was dead. I was both.

I was the choice.

I was the end.

I was the beginning.

I was the now.

I was the here.

I was the me.

I was the not-me.

I was the us.

I was the them.

I was the all.

I was the none.

I was the choice.

The coat was gone. The ash was gone. The red was gone.

The weight was gone. The burden was gone. The pain was gone.

The choice remained. The choice was me. The choice was all.

I was the choice.

I was the end.

I was the beginning.

I was the now.

I was the here.

I was the me.

I was the not-me.

I was the us.

I was the them.

I was the all.

I was the none.

I was the choice.