The Bargain

What the Highest Bidder forgot to consider was the fine print’s whisper, the shadowy slither of clauses concealed like snakes in a rut, their fangs bared sharp when the ink’s freshly cut. They came for the shimmer, the glimmer of gold, a promise of status too tempting to hold. A rollercoaster of ruinous glee— upward ambition, a plummet to sea. Oh, the calamity cloaked in allure! The contract, they thought, was ironclad, pure. But the cost was a shatter of dreams unforeseen, a mirror reflecting what might have been. Were they pressured? Perhaps, by the weight of their peers, or blinded by offers spun sweet in their ears. A deal made in haste, a feast turned to famine, a coin flipped in folly, the heads both abandoned. Now they sit with their purchase—a cage lined with silk, its bars dripping honey, its locks thick with guilt. Was it worth it? They wonder, their thoughts growing dense, as they cradle their prize at the cost of their sense. Yet, in this exchange, we find a delight, a humor that dances in shadows of night. For isn’t it funny how often we leap, for treasures that glitter but don’t let us sleep? What the Highest Bidder forgot to consider wasn’t the weight of the win—but the sliver of soul they’d trade for a chance to ascend, to ride the wild curve with no thought of the end.