Well the suitcase shop opened eventually and so in I burst and marching up to the biggest case on wheels I pulled it out and rolled it up to the till where I paid for it with some of my cash.
Although the shopkeepers looked at me a bit peculiar, what with me being slightly unwashed and all, my money took them by surprise. So I left them behind me as I went to find a place where I could fill the new case with the money from the old beaten up one.
A public toilet did the trick, and I had a wash too before I exited, leaving the old suitcase behind and walking on towards the next part of the plan.
In the clothes store I was followed around as I went from rack to rack picking myself some clean new clothes that I changed into in the car-park out back.
Rolling through the town towards a hotel I saw myself in the shop windows pulling my case full of money and found myself looking like someone else.
On the way to the hotel I just had to stop in a unisex salon to have my hair done, and while they were at it touch up my nails, and whatever else they had on offer to make me look like a new person.
I came out looking like a million bucks, which wasn’t far from the truth seeing as I had a suitcase full of cash that I’d just found abandoned in the woods somewhere back in my old life.
I checked into the first hotel that had room service and a pool and booked myself up for a sauna and a hot massage with a glass of something nice by my side and wondered: is this who I really want to be.
I couldn’t possibly tell at that moment, so I drifted off to sleep for the longest time, and woke up a new person that just had to do a little jig.
And then I danced and danced.
After I’d settled myself back down I began to propose the next part of the plan to myself but found whichever way I thought of it, a suitcase full of money was a very heavy thing indeed.
I munched dry biscuits to nourish this along, but by the end of a bottle of wine the taste of defeat was with me and back-farting merrily in my face, the dirty rotten scoundrel.
As I took the obstruction number of this, I passed out on the floor from the fumes that overcame me.
I never woke up of course. I died and went up all the way to heaven where they gave me wings to fly around with, and a harp for when I got bored.
I was so bored. I just had to escape. On finding an open window I dived through it and found myself kneeling in front of the suitcase full of money that was causing me to doubt things that I thought were sacrosanct, and so pure they never needed any explanation to prove their existence.
Oh, how could I ever be so wrong?
And such a price to pay; how can that be worth it?
I guess there are some things that can never be known. So I made up my mind to do something about it, tomorrow, and lay down and slept the sleep of one who was going from plan to plan, and the next one wasn’t until tomorrow.
Tomorrow never comes of course, and so I found myself alone and entirely on my own with no one else around at all, which is always a good time to dance.
As I slipped through the prefix of this into the next proposition my awareness turned around and around until I was quite lost in the music of the dance.
Coming across a beggar in the road I gave him the suitcase full of money, and wished him the best of luck.
He threw it back at me and demanded all my spare change.
So I left him with a grin and fifty bucks.
….
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Link to the last part of the story @wales/the-case-of-the-suitcase-full-of-money
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