Horishima sat at the train station with a sign that said, “For sale 10¢”
A man walked up to her.
He asked, “What’s for sale, little girl? You?”
“No,” she said. “A reason to care. A reason for loving.”
“A reason for caring about you? A reason for loving you?”
“No,” Horishima said. “But anybody else. Or everybody else.”
The man thought.
“You must be hungy,” he said.
“Not especially,” Horishima replied.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “There’s plenty of people I hate. How about a dime for a good reason to hate.”
“No,” Horishima said. “I can’t.”
“How about a dollar? I’ll pay you a dollar for your best reason to hate.”
Again, Horishima turned him down.
They negotiatied all the way to five dollars.
Horishima finally said, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not selling hate at any price.”
“You mean, not today?”
“Not today nor tomorrow,” Horishama said.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “You got no hate in you?”
“Of course I do,” Horishima said. “I’m not pretending to be a good person. I’ve got hate, but it’s simply not for sale.”
The man huffed. He gave her a dime. Horishima started giving him a reason to care, but he interrupted.
“Save it,” he said, before walking away.
Then a woman appraoched. She asked the same questions. She asked Horishima if she could buy something other than a reason to care. Horishima felt sick. She said no. She said no at any price to anything but care. So the woman left, and so did Horishima.
The next day Horishima returned. In her spot was the man from the day before with a sign that said, “Reasons to hate $5.” And he already had a crowd of dozens of people, all eager to give him money.