Selling Success

Sam stared blankly at the nicotine framed space on the wall where his TV screen used to hang, trying to shake off its lure even now that it no longer existed.

He longed for sleep, to close his eyes and forget, but it had been so long now that days just drifted into one another. Life without punctuation.

He took in his surroundings that once seemed so familiar. Same apartment, only the things that defined it were now gone and felt so alien.

He felt embarrassed, like a magician whose tricks had been put on display showing him for the charlatan he was.
All smoke and mirrors and hire purchase goods.

He looked to the cushion sprung laminate flooring now littered with overdue statements and bills like a tapestry of red and black ink, then over to the man sat opposite him on a tea chest where his 5 year interest free leather sofa had sat for 5 years and 2 months.

'Mr Franklin?.. Sam.. do you mind if I call you that..Sam?' said the man, 'I can see you are very distressed by your situation and right now you are feeling helpless. Its not easy seeing the things that you feel defined you taken away, but remember the adage that the things that you own, end up owning you?. Consider yourself on the road to freedom, now you've lost everything you are free, with my help that is. You still want my help, don't you Sam?'

Sam nodded, he was transfixed by the man in front of him, so calm and controlled, his voice was soothing and confident, just listening to him made him feel better.

'I am glad, because you might not realise it now but you have so much to give. It saddens me to see someone so young and full of life at such a low point. But let me assure you, its just a glitch, as I said I can free you from all this' he said, bending to pick up a silver brief case by his feet.
Placing it on his lap, it clinked as the case sprang open and he removed some paper work.

Sam eyes were still sore and blurred but couldn't take them away from the man, even sat on the old tea chest he looked so elegant, from the Italian suit that hung from his tall and powerful frame to his Mediterranean tan and raven black hair, his presence commanded attention.

Everything he thought he should to be, but not sure why anymore.

'I have a list of your debtors here, which from your rather minimalist decor I can see some have been settled. Any remaining balances have already been paid by my company, giving you a clean slate so to speak. Now of course I am a business man, and these services do come at a price, not a financial one I might add, I prefer to call it a personal investment'

Sam went to reply but his throat was dry, he found himself mouthing silently.

'No need to interject Sam, I imagine you're concerned about this investment. Let me explain. I see from my records you signed up on our free online service, our 'Getting Ambition Back' website, is this right?' said the man looking at the dusty corner where the computer had once sat.

Sam nodded.

'It says here that you left school and went to University for 3 years, concluding with a diploma in Media Studies. You took a year off, then worked In a Bar for 6 months until a back injury left you unable to work, for..let me see 6 years on full benefits. How is your back Sam?'

Sam squinted at him, still unable to muster conversation.

'That's the spirit Sam, only forward thinking now. The goods news is, all our details show that you are an ideal candidate for our 'Getting Ambition Back' scheme. You see as a society we have invested, very heavily in your case I might add, in your future. From schooling, university education, supplementing your income to help you on your feet and offering a financial crutch during your 'disablility'. But all investments either mature or dissolve and yours has most definately done the later.'

Sams tiredness was now proving difficult to hold at bay and was beginning to feel himself drifting in and out of consciousness despite the mans presence.

'You see at G.A.B as I like to call it, we specialise in maximising your potential and helping us capitalise on your Ambition. What you might not realise Sam is that we are all born with Ambition, it can be misused, misplaced or forgotten about but never truly lost, unlike the ability and inclination to use it.'

Sam slumped over and fell to the floor, now unable to feel or move his limbs, face down into the pile of unpaid bills. Straining his eyes upward he could see the man removing something from his suitcase and walking over to where he lay.

'The sedative I injected you with earlier when we shook hands has now taken hold and will make what I have to do next less painful' said the man removing a sheath from a syringe.
'Ambition is a precious commodity Sam and it is my duty for the welfare of future generations to preserve and stock pile it. Removing it from those unable to use it properly'

Sam felt the sharp pain in his back as the man stuck the needle deep into his spine, then slowly pulling back the syringe. He watched as he walked back to the case and placed the needle into a small canister.

'You are free now Sam, and so is your ambition...from neglect' said the man as he snapped the case shut and left the room.

Sam indeed felt free, strangely at peace and once more he stared up instinctively at the space where the TV once stood as his eyes slowly shut for the last time.