creative writing exercise – moxie

Finding myself on the road to Welldon, I happened upon an interesting sight. From the back of a beat up green station wagon, complete with faux wood panels, a man was selling something and, judging by the crowd that had gathered, it was not just any ordinary old something. Checking my watch, I found that I had perhaps fifteen minutes to pause and mingle and hopefully discover the nature of this gathering. As I neared the perimeter of the group, I could hear the man regaling them with his patter.

“Step right up here folks, and take a wondrous look at this magic elixir. Ponder the potent possibilities of nourishing sustenance all contained herein this very bottle, three sizes available. Would you deprive yourself and your loved ones of the very essence of life, liberty and yes, even the pursuit of happiness, as ordained by our constitution and then distilled in a secret patented process devised by men much more educated than I and brought here to you this very day? I see the incredulity on your upturned faces and yes, even I was not long ago a skeptic, quite doubtful of the dubious claims that another was spouting along a country road. But, upon imbibing my first swallow, I felt a pulsing energy move through my body and even unto the very ends of my extremities. From that glorious day forward, I have found a spring in my step, a song in my heart and, dare I say it in such company, vigor in my loins all more powerful than I had previously possessed. I cannot explain it any other way; it is as though my life were incomplete before I experienced my first taste of this sweet nectar. And it is at great personal peril that I bring it to you here today. Yes, that is true; I wish it were not.”

He paused to let his words sink in before continuing.

“I risk the humiliation of unjust incarceration and the loss of my very livelihood by even attempting to speak to you here today. For even though I am here on bona fide beneficent business, some would say that the claims I make are too great and others would say they are not verifiable by science. To those non-believers I would say: Buy just one bottle, preferably the larger, and conduct whatever tests you so desire. For the rest of you, who have heard my words and have already decided, quite wisely I might add, to set yourself on the path to improved lifestyle, I say step right up. I am required by the laws of each and every state in the union to caution you that the effects of the first taste are very powerful and should be undertaken only once you have returned to your homes. Would that I could witness the joy that you are about to express. However, I must be on my way, spreading the fervent message to yet another town, hopefully in the next county.”

He then proceeded to ply a brisk business, selling his product to, by my estimation, approximately half of the gathered. The crowd dispersed amicably, though I would hazard that many would feel less inclined to friendly countenance later in the day. I myself had partaken of the curiously named beverage on more than one occasion, not because I found it to impart such wonders as claimed, but simply that it was liquid refreshment on a hot summer day. I figured that I’d have another taste later after I concluded some quick business.

“Hello, friend,” I called out as I approached. “As the local law, I find that I could cite you for several violations. However, we can settle your debt right here for just two bottles, preferably the larger.”

About Tim Giron

There are some who call him... Tim.


  1. Wolf In The Fold says

    I was going to go for a similar angle and I’m glad now I didn’t. Not just because it would have seemed derivative but because yours is better than mine would have been.

    Very spare description works well. All the reader gets is a beat up green car and we fill in the rest.

    Nice flow to pitch-man. Although I could have used some more crazy ailments/ingredients…hysterical neurosis? black baobab root? instant revivification of synaptic ephemera?

    Brilliant ending. Flimflam man + slightly corrupt policeman = five paragraph story.

    I kinda want a Moxie now.