Zest Lit Issue 2, October 2013 | Page 25

‘Sir, we have to go. We have no interest in buying a vacuum.’

‘Please, Miss,’ the salesman said. ‘It will change your life.’

By now, beads of sweat were formed on his forehead. Somehow, despite a prolonged struggle, the last piece refused to snap into place. Frustrated, the salesman uttered what was presumably a curse word in his own language, the tone was universal.

‘I’m so sorry. This is not normal. Just one moment, please,’ the salesman begged, now sweating profusely. Sweat even dripped onto the vacuum itself.

At this point, Jimmy and Julia’s impatience blossomed into stifled laughter. Neither one realized that they were on the same page until their eyes met, at which point the dam broke and for the first time in weeks, possibly even months, they shared a laugh.

The salesman was so determined to get the final piece to snap into place, he either ignored their laughter, or was indifferent to it. Perhaps he was used to it.

The salesman finally got the final piece assembled and looked up with pride.

‘Now, I will show you magic. Yes?’

He proceeded to plug the vacuum in, then grabbed a handful of foam peanuts and dramatically threw them onto the floor. He flipped the switch to the vacuum. But it didn’t turn on. He swore again in a language that only he could understand and jiggled the switch, back and forth until the vacuum finally roared to life. It sounded more like a dying weasel.

The salesman then attempted to vacuum up the foam peanuts, but it was no use. The vacuum rode over the foam peanuts over and over