The man walks. The man, plump and bright approaches the Volkswagen. Sees his reflection—shudders then chuckles.
The keys come in full force across the sky. Magically, they jingle across the parking lot and into his palm. He unlocks the door, opens it. One bare foot in, than the other. Suddenly, one bare foot out, than the other. He wonders where his sandals have gone. He shudders, then chuckles, wiggles his toes and gets out.
Magic again as the doors mysteriously lock without the jingling keys. He is enlightened. He is at peace.
He sits on the roof of the wagon. Calm and still, he is interrupted by a salesman. He pleas for a sale but there is no success. He shudders, then chuckles, takes back the keys, and goes back inside. And the sacred man is lost in thought. Sandals pass through his mind, taking away pain from pebbles lodged in the bottom of his feet and between his toes.
The earth spins at its axis. Somewhere, a baby is born. Then another. Cars move in and out of the lot, yet he remains silent and distant.
A crowd gathers. The crowd points at a man, plump and bright, who sits indian style on the roof of a Volkswagen. Some claim he floats, but none get close enough to tell.
And then he returns from his journey. He shudders, then chuckles, seeming not to notice the crowd. He rolls down off the car.
He waves his hands high in the air, and the crowd’s jaws drop in awe. They shudder, then chuckle.
Out comes the salesman, who has been keeping eye from his desk.
“I’ll take it,” says the man, plump and bright.
The salesman hands the round man the keys in exchange for a sack, light and fat. The exchange is quick, and the man, plump and bright, is soon on his way. He walks down the street barefoot, jingling his new set of keys. The salesman leans against the Volkswagen. Inside the sack he finds happiness. As he empties it, flower petals fall to the ground, some blowing away in the wind. He shudders, then chuckles.