Economics

There was commotion at the market.

The boy and his mom ran towards it

Rather counterintuitively

But they knew.

They knew there was only one reason for all this racket:

Peaches.

The market had peaches today.

The boy had seen peaches come to this market on the rare occasion,

Though he’s never tried one.

But his oma would describe it to him. 

The skin,

She tells him.

The skin is delicate and velvet.

One's teeth can sink into it like a stone into water.

And in the middle, past all of its juicy flesh,

A pit is nestled in, ready to produce more of this sunshine fruit.

The boy and his mom wait in the line at the market.

They pay for their essentials,

Downtrodden because the peaches were ravaged long before they got there.

And even if there were any, the boy and his mother didn’t have any money left to spare. 

Fights broke out in the street 

Between the haves and the have nots.

The boy wished to fight,

But he was too small,

And his mom could not be expected to help.

Upon returning home,

Their neighbor of many years summoned the boy.

He was on lookout, eyes shifting back and forth,

As he presented the boy with the golden fruit

And put one finger in front of his mouth.

Shhh. 

Once the boy was safely in his room, took a bite.

The peach.

The peach that he never thought he’d eat.

He’s just a boy from East Germany, after all.

East Germany, under siege, rarely receiving anything but the basics.

But today,

Today he had it.

A peach.

A peach whose juice dripped down his chin,

Whose juice tasted like hope and grandeur.

The man looks at the display

Peaches 

upon peaches, 

just sitting out.

People passing them by 

As if they’re nothing.

He passes them too, though

The man has grown to not care for them,

The first thing that made him yearn for more.

This version of the man

The one that lives in America

And is a professor of economics 

Realizes his love of the peach was a novelty. 

Once he had more access, they lost their luster.

He won’t find himself picking a fight over the fruit,

Nor will he find himself breaking through the skin of said fruit

Thinking about his neighbor,

Thinking about his room in East Germany, 

Thinking about his Oma. 

Maybe it’s sad, maybe it’s symbolic

For security, dreams having come true.

Or maybe it’s simply just another story of 

Supply and demand.