All around the world have opened strange, white colonnaded buildings like banks or fancy law offices. Except these "Exchanges" are entirely empty save for shadows behind the frosted windows at the back who never speak. Here a lucky few can redeem gold lettered coupons for any wish the heart desires. Though the mouth had better word the request carefully, as those shadows listen carefully and there are no refunds... -- Anon Guest
They literally turned up overnight. On one day, it was a vacant lot. The next, it was a fancy building with a fluted colonnade and amazingly considerate disability access. On the lintel above the colonnade was a single word: Exchange.
People came with their phone cameras running, just to see what the hell was going on.
Inside the fancy exterior was... fancy liminality. It was built like a bank, true, but it was a bank from before any world wars changed things. Replete with the ancient light bulbs. There was red velvet rope on both sides of the oak-lined chamber, made into a maze dividing the customers in twain. On one side - Wishes. On the other - Wants.
The tellers staffing the little interview boths - each with a red-cushioned oak chair - were shadows. Physical, three-dimensional representations of the human form, woven out of transparent darkness. They had no discernable features. No recognisable clothing. No voices.
The silence was like a tomb. When the living spoke in that chamber, their voices did not echo. Their shouts fell to normal speaking. Normal speech fell to whispers.
Allie chose 'Wishes' and wound herself through the queue. One among many wondering what this was all about, though one of the very few not making a video record. One by one, the queue ebbed away before her. Each to a single booth where they would sit and whisper to the shadow behind the glass barrier.
Then a light went on at a booth, and it was her turn. The seat was comfortable. The shadow on the other side slid across a sheet of paper. It held the conditions of use for the service. All exchanges were non-refundable. Allie couldn't exchange a want with a wish nor vice versa. She could not use one to negate the other. She could not wish to undo a former wish nor a want to undo a previous want. She was advised to state her claim as precisely as possible. The administration was not responsible for the results of poor word choices. All deals were final, and she was free to refuse the exchange on offer until she signed to accept it. And so on.
Allie read it all, then whispered, "I wish that all people who revel in cruelty choose to practice kindness, henceforth. For the rest of their lives."
The shadow behind the glass pane nodded slowly, and left to discuss things with a shadow sitting behind a fancier desk. They came back with a single sheet of paper. It was a set of detailed instructions that would do only Allie harm.
Something distasteful that would haunt her the rest of her life. Perhaps, even shorten it.
Until she signed, her wish would not come to pass. Until she signed, she didn't have to do those things. She only had one question...
Would it be worth it?
[Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash]
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