**Episode 59 – THE HEDONIC TREADMILL**
**Part Five: The Village That Had Everything**
---
The Merchant of Tomorrow smiled.
Not the smile of a defeated man.
The smile of someone who had heard every objection before.
He gently closed the lid of the crystal box containing the thousand-year flower.
The glowing seed disappeared.
The golden fishing hook returned to its velvet case.
The compass.
The telescope.
The ancient map.
One by one, each treasure vanished into the colorful wagon.
---
"You misunderstand me."
he said calmly.
"I don't force anyone to chase tomorrow."
"I simply..."
"...remind them that tomorrow exists."
---
Professor Gandalf nodded.
"And therein lies your brilliance."
The merchant bowed slightly.
"I do try."
---
Tarzan scratched his head.
"...I AM NOW CONFUSED POLITELY."
---
Milo smiled.
"That's progress."
---
The merchant climbed onto his wagon.
Instead of leaving...
He picked up the reins, looked toward the distant mountains, and asked,
"Would any of you care for a story?"
---
Everyone exchanged curious glances.
Even Gandalf looked interested.
"The best philosophers," he murmured, "usually answer questions with stories."
---
The merchant flicked the reins gently.
The elderly tortoises began walking at a pace that suggested they had nowhere urgent to be for the next several decades.
"Walk with me."
he said.
"I know a place."
---
The group followed.
The jungle slowly transformed as they walked.
The towering rainforest gave way to open meadows.
The river widened.
The air became cooler.
After nearly an hour, the trees parted to reveal a beautiful valley.
Nestled at its center stood a small village.
Every house was immaculate.
The gardens overflowed with flowers.
Children laughed while chasing butterflies.
Musicians played beneath old oak trees.
Fresh bread filled the air with an irresistible aroma.
The streets were spotless.
No one argued.
No one hurried.
No one seemed poor.
No one seemed lonely.
---
Tarzan stopped walking.
"...THIS..."
"...LOOKS EXPENSIVE."
---
"It is."
said the merchant.
"But not with money."
---
They entered the village.
Every villager smiled warmly.
A baker handed fresh bread to strangers without expecting payment.
A carpenter repaired an elderly woman's chair before she even asked.
Children shared toys without fighting.
Even the dogs appeared unusually polite.
One dog actually waited for another dog to finish drinking before approaching the bowl.
Milo frowned.
"...That's statistically suspicious."
---
The merchant smiled.
"This village possesses everything its people once dreamed of."
---
"Everything?"
asked Diana.
"Everything."
---
"No hunger."
"No war."
"No poverty."
"No disease."
"No fear."
---
Tarzan looked amazed.
"...THEY HAVE WON LIFE."
---
"So they believed."
said the merchant quietly.
---
As they walked deeper into the village...
Something began to feel...
Strange.
Not wrong.
Subtle.
Like a melody missing one note.
---
The laughter sounded genuine.
Yet...
Short-lived.
The smiles were real.
Yet...
Brief.
---
A young boy unwrapped a beautifully carved wooden horse.
His face exploded with joy.
He hugged it tightly.
Ran through the streets.
Showed every friend.
For nearly an hour...
He was the happiest child in the village.
---
The next morning...
The horse lay forgotten beneath a tree.
The boy now wanted a wooden dragon.
---
A woman proudly admired her newly built home.
For weeks she could think of nothing else.
Every visitor received a grand tour.
Every room brought delight.
Months later...
She barely noticed the house.
Instead...
She wondered whether the roof should be larger.
---
A musician composed the greatest song of his career.
The entire village applauded.
People cried.
Children danced.
For days...
He floated with happiness.
Then...
He became obsessed with writing an even greater song.
---
Milo watched silently.
One example.
Then another.
Then another.
The pattern repeated everywhere.
---
Tarzan looked around in disbelief.
"...THEY HAVE EVERYTHING."
---
"They do."
said the merchant.
---
"So why..."
Tarzan lowered his voice.
"...DO THEY KEEP LOOKING..."
"...LIKE SOMETHING IS MISSING?"
---
The merchant didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
He pointed toward an old man sitting peacefully beneath a fig tree.
Unlike everyone else...
The old man wasn't building.
Buying.
Competing.
Planning.
Or improving anything.
He simply watched the sunset.
Smiling.
---
"Go ask him."
the merchant said.
---
The group approached.
The old man greeted them warmly.
"You are visitors."
"We are."
said Gandalf.
---
Tarzan sat beside him.
"I HAVE AN IMPORTANT QUESTION."
The old man nodded.
"I enjoy important questions."
---
"EVERYONE HERE HAS EVERYTHING."
"Almost."
---
"THEN WHY ARE THEY STILL CHASING MORE?"
---
The old man laughed softly.
"When I was young..."
"I dreamed of owning one apple tree."
"I believed that if I had one..."
"...I would finally be content."
---
"I planted one."
"It grew beautifully."
"For a while..."
"I was delighted."
---
"Then I wanted two."
---
"So I planted another."
---
"Then an orchard."
---
"Then larger orchards."
---
"Then orchards in neighboring villages."
---
He smiled at the memory.
"I eventually owned more apple trees than I could count."
---
Tarzan leaned forward.
"WERE YOU HAPPY?"
---
"Oh yes."
said the old man.
"Many times."
---
"And then?"
---
"And then..."
he chuckled,
"...my mind quietly informed me that apples were no longer impressive."
---
Everyone laughed.
Because it sounded ridiculous.
Yet...
Uncomfortably familiar.
---
The old man picked up a single fallen apple.
He held it gently in his wrinkled hands.
"You know what finally changed me?"
---
"No."
said Meera.
---
"I became too old to plant another orchard."
---
Silence settled around them.
---
"So I sat beneath the trees..."
"...and ate an apple."
---
He closed his eyes.
Smiled.
"It was the sweetest apple I had tasted in years."
---
Tarzan frowned.
"WHY?"
---
"Because..."
the old man whispered,
"...it was the first one I had truly noticed."
---
No one spoke.
Not even Tarzan.
---
The evening breeze carried the scent of blooming jasmine through the village.
Church bells rang softly in the distance.
Children laughed somewhere beyond the gardens.
The world hadn't become more beautiful.
The old man had simply stopped running fast enough to miss it.
---
Professor Gandalf looked at the Merchant of Tomorrow.
The merchant smiled.
"You see?"
he said quietly.
"I was never the villain."
---
"No."
Gandalf agreed.
"You never were."
---
"You simply sell the future."
---
"And people forget..."
Gandalf looked toward the old man beneath the apple tree.
"...that today was once the future they were chasing."
---
For a moment...
No one said anything.
Because each of them suddenly remembered a dream they had once prayed for...
...and had quietly started taking for granted.
---
**Episode 59 – THE HEDONIC TREADMILL**
**Part Six: The Jar of Sunsets**
---
Nobody hurried to leave.
The old man's words lingered in the air long after he had finished speaking.
It was a curious thing about wisdom.
It rarely arrived with applause.
It simply sat beside you...
Waiting for your mind to become quiet enough to notice it.
---
The sun had begun its slow descent behind the western hills.
The entire village glowed with amber light.
Children chased one another through fields of tall grass.
A baker removed fresh loaves from a stone oven.
Someone played a violin somewhere beyond the marketplace.
The melody drifted through the streets like a memory that belonged to everyone.
---
Tarzan broke the silence.
"...I FEEL STRANGE."
---
Milo looked at him.
"Dizzy again?"
"No."
Tarzan frowned.
"...SMALL."
---
"Small?"
---
"I HAVE BEEN RUNNING TOWARD TOMORROW..."
He looked at the sunset.
"...AND TODAY KEPT BECOMING YESTERDAY BEFORE I EVEN SAW IT."
**To Be Continued...**
Written By,
Ivan Edwin
Pen Name :Maximus.
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