"The fabric of the universe, yes?"

"I don’t think so," Charlie leaned back from the damp towel, the thing wobbling and sending dust up his nose. "I think it needs some laundering, honestly."

"Nononono," the man bubbled. He whipped the rag up, crossing it around his head like a mystic. He swayed, gently. "Can’t do that. Kill everybody, you go doing that." The man’s eyes were pale, the soul behind them cracked and lonely. "Or," he murmured, peering up at Charlie, "I’ve got Aladdin Tupperware. Really good. Really special good."

"No, I – that’s fine, really," Charlie pressed the proffered containers away from him.

The seller-man twitched, squatting down by his rotten box piled with molded treasure. He rolled the container in his knobbled hands and the towel slid over his eyes, casting a stark shadow that cut across his nose. "You sure?" he paused in his contemplation of the plastic to peek up at Charlie yet again.

Charlie squirmed. The seller-man held his wares up, stretching out from his hovel as if to be lifted to safety. A shard of light glinted from the plastic.

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