SLIDE 2

Once more, I searched for synonyms for infinity. How could I adequately inform them if I could not speak?

I have a collar, a hole for the head, and a sleeve for each arm. We cover the torso. In some instances, we are used to indicate class and status. At times, we make political statements. Other times, we are just plain. Some of my relatives have vibrant colours or striking patterns, while others, like me, are basic. All t-shirts are bought and sold. It can be a disheartening process. Someone will pay more for me because of the logo around the left lateral chest area while paying less for a relative of mine made in the same factory but lacking a logo. Our value is determined by forces we cannot control. 

Unknown to humans, t-shirts like myself can choose where we will be sold after we are produced. Our two options are Earth and Sabahlira. Humans on Sabahlira are aware of life on Earth; however, I am not sure that intelligent life on Earth is aware of life on Sabahlira. Humans in Sabahlira do not have any desire to destroy other forms of intelligent life. They are good people. I wonder about people on Earth.  

When I was made, after exiting the production line, I, along with a few thousand t-shirts, were gathered in front of a large blank screen where we received The Talk. During The Talk, our two options were presented to us. The first option was to be sold on Earth. The second option was to be sold on Sabahlira. The presentation felt odd, as though it was out of balance like the third law of motion had been violated, as Sabahlira’s presentation was in no way equal and opposite to Earth’s presentation. 

First came Earth’s presentation; its slides filled the once-blank large screen. On Earth, we would be sold for our fair price. The markets would work such that inefficiencies such as price differences would be eradicated. If two markets existed where two identical t-shirts were sold, prices would eventually equalise. For example, if in the first market, a t-shirt costs $10 and in the second market, an identical t-shirt costs $20, due to what were described as market forces, the price of a shirt in both markets would eventually settle at $15. This is because when a price difference for the same t-shirt existed, an enterprising human would buy the shirt in the first market for $10 and sell it in the second market for $20. However, doing so would increase the t-shirt’s demand in the first market and thus increase its price. Meanwhile, in the second market, the t-shirts that the human sold would increase supply, pushing down the price. Eventually, the price in the first market would equal that in the second market, eradicating the opportunity to make a risk-free profit. This seemed like a fair system to me. Eventually, each of us, myself included, would be sold for a fair price. This seemed right and just.  

Next was Sabahlira’s presentation. They did not spend any time discussing the fundamentals of their market structure. They said absolutely nothing. Instead, with joy and glee expressed in their collars, they typed a few simple words, ‘Be bold, be courageous. Dwell in ambiguity, experience infinity’ across the large screen. These nine words inspired awe and curiosity within the three t-shirts beside me and apathy and indifference within me and most other t-shirts. Why did I need to take the risk when I knew that on Earth, although I did not know my value, I knew it would be fairly determined through the market. 

To decide, we went either right or left, right for Earth or left for Sabahlira. This decision was final. Along with the vast majority of t-shirts, I veered right towards Earth while a few especially brave t-shirts went left towards the uncertainty of Sabahlira. 

As we made our way towards the store we would temporarily call home while on Earth, I had a brief and seemingly meaningless conversation with a fellow t-shirt. They had the word Saduj across their chest. We wondered where we might end up, whose chest we might cover, whether we would be a gift or a hasty purchase. The one thing we knew was we would be valued correctly. As we neared the store, Saduj blurted out a rumour they had heard. Apparently, a few t-shirts every cycle had the opportunity to choose between Earth and Sabahlira again. At a random point, special t-shirts indicated by having two label tags would have the opportunity to return to the production site, face the large blank screen again, rewatch the presentations, and potentially make a different decision. “I wonder if it’s true? I wonder what they choose, the devil they know or the one they don’t? Perhaps one comes across a good Samaritan who provides them with wise counsel,” apostle Saduj pondered.  

I felt eyes looking intently at me. I was not particularly extraordinary. I was a plain t-shirt with an up-market logo. I was in a pile of identical t-shirts adjacent to a television, which bored shoppers mindlessly stared at. “The practice of mindless television consumption is replicated in homes too,” said a t-shirt in the ‘Sales: Pre-loved’ pile. An uninspiring male walked intently towards me. Although we had never met, he picked me up and handled me with familiarity. He then threw me into his basket, and after a short walk, I was placed on the counter, where he paid $35 for me. That was my price. It seemed low. I felt more valuable than that. I can feel. I can talk, write, and read well for a t-shirt. I felt undervalued. Like a quarter-filled fuel tank at the beginning of a cross-country road trip, I felt I wasn’t enough. 

I wondered if, somewhere, another version of me was being sold for a higher price. I was taken to his house, past his television, through his bedroom, and into his wardrobe, where I was placed with two dozen other t-shirts stylistically identical to me but more worn. They greeted me kindly and welcomed me to what was a pleasant but dull life. I was informed our owner was a regimented individual. He had a three-shirt colour rotation, black t-shirt on Monday, blue on Tuesday, grey on Wednesday, then black, blue, then grey and black to finish the week. We were always paired with slim-fit dark blue pants and either white trainers or brown boots. In the winter, we would be covered by a knit sweater or a thick jacket on particularly cold days.  

“Get out of here if you get the chance. Go where you are valued,” was the second statement one of the black shirts in an adjacent pile made after welcoming me. He went on, “If I had the chance again, I would have at least tried out Sabahlira; surely it would be better than this.” But I had just got there. I was initially at the top of the pile, but I assume a load of washing had just been dried and ironed as later that day, I went from being on top to being sandwiched between four other blue shirts above and below me. The day after I arrived was the beginning of the new week. It took just over two weeks for me to be worn. 

The wardrobe opened and closed twice a day, first to signal the beginning of the day and the second to indicate the end of the day. On the fifteenth wardrobe opening, it was my time to shine. I was selected. He put me on. I fit him well, hugged his slim figure appropriately, and matched well with his slim dark pants. He chose to wear white sneakers. The sun warmed his dry skin; thus, I wasn’t accompanied by a knit sweater. We left his bedroom and entered the lounge room, where he had a large television.  

For an unknown reason, he kept reaching and scratching the back of his neck. It seemed as though something was irritating him. Like JFK’s assassin, the source of his irritation was a mystery. He kept tugging around the back of his neck, finally reaching into my collar, then holding his hand on my label for what seemed like an eternity. He seemed to be contemplating something, after which he dropped his arm, hung his hand by his hip, and stopped reaching towards his neck. We returned to the wardrobe, but it seemed earlier than usual. He took me off and picked the next blue t-shirt. He first felt and then looked at its collar, after which he smiled and uttered, “Uno”. He put on the new blue t-shirt and took me in his hand. The next thing I remember was being in front of the large blank screen again. 

“Welcome back. You have been returned to the production line because you have two labels. You have the choice: either return to Earth or go to Sabahlira”. I accepted the offer to listen to a presentation from each side. Once more, the first was a presentation from Earth. It was identical to the presentation I had heard the first time. Second was Sabahlira’s presentation. Again, no words were spoken, but a phrase was typed on the big screen, ‘Be adventurous, be audacious. Dwell in uncertainty, experience infinity’. 

On this occasion, I turned left, and alone, I went to Sabahlira. When I got to the store, the other t-shirts seemed joyful. “How much are we sold for?” I asked. “Infinity”, a fellow t-shirt responded. Perhaps this was the source of their joy. “We are the most valuable item in Sabahlira?” I asked. “No, everything here is worth an infinite amount”. This stunned me, but they went on. “Look to your left; we have a canvas where shoppers have put pictures that matter to them accompanied by a short story. Every day, people come and read those stories; some cry, others laugh, but all enjoy the vulnerability of their fellow citizens. It works better than having something silly there, like a television. You should see what people have in their houses. Each lounge room functions as a vessel for self-expression. That’s why we are all so joyful. It’s why everyone is happy, even the humans, because if we are worth an infinite amount, then so are they; they value each other and everything around them. Our system illustrates and allows everyone to understand the notion of infinity, allowing us to experience an internal sense of awe and ridding us of a desire to yolk ourselves to meaningless numbers. Humans here view themselves and each other with kindness, imagination, sympathy, and curiosity, allowing themselves and each other to live lives true to themselves. It’s beautiful. It’s how we should live”. It all sounded wonderful, but I still wondered, “How are we worth an infinite amount?”

“Remember during The Talk in front of the big screen, they told us that on Earth, arbitrages are eradicated? In Sabahlira, arbitrages are actively created and maintained. They have learnt that within the irreconcilable is infinity. Contradictions do not have to be eradicated but can be admired, appreciated, and better understood, and in fact, in those contradictions lie enduring truths”. The t-shirt continued, “For blue t-shirts like us, we are sold in two markets: A and B. We are sold here in A for $50, and the store that sells us in A promises to pay the person who buys us in B $5. So someone can buy us in A for $50 and sell us in B for $55, thus making $5. This will result in demand for us in A rising, pushing up the price. However, because the person who buys us in B will receive $5 from the store that sells us, they also essentially paid $50 for us. Thus, the person who bought us initially for $55 in B can still make money as the price rises in A as they can sell us in A for a given amount and wait to receive their $5. Because they can do so, the price in B rises as the price in A rises. The faster one can sell us between the two markets, the more valuable we are, and assuming we could be bought and sold simultaneously, our value would be infinite. The simplest way I can explain it is the faster we can be sold between the two markets, the faster someone can make a risk-free profit of $5. If you can only sell us once a year, someone will be willing to pay a specific amount of money equal to the amount they would need to spend to get $5 from a risk-free investment like a government bond. If they can sell us monthly and make $5 in a month, they will pay a bit more for the t-shirt, daily and make $5 a day, even more, every minute to make $5 a minute, more, every second to make $5 a second, much more, and simultaneously, infinite.” 

“So how is the price of anything determined? How do people actually trade things here?” I asked. They replied, “Using the market, but the greater point is that the price does not matter. It is used to trade goods, but we do not derive our value from it. We use markets to trade, but more importantly, they have also shown us that, like an electric car with a perpetual motion machine as an engine at the beginning of a cross-country road trip, we are enough”. 

“Why don’t they say this in the production line?” I asked. “Because no one would believe us”, they responded and continued, “It is too good to be true, so it is the daring, the courageous that experience and enjoy it. Have you noticed that the Sabahlira presentation always has a joyful tone, but no one speaks? We cannot speak about our experience here. We cannot produce words to communicate with our fellow non-Sabahlira t-shirts so we try and find alternate ways. That’s the cost of joy, creating meaning, security, true contentment; it is almost impossible to communicate verbally”.

Recently, I joined the presentation team. Periodically, I go back to the production line to give presentations within the limitations placed on me by my good fortune. I cannot talk to the other t-shirts, so I write. Hopefully, they can read. 

For today’s presentation, I will do something different. Instead of a single line, I will tell a story.  

SLIDE 1 - Be daring, be courageous. Dwell in ambiguity, experience infinity.

SLIDE 2 - Once more, I searched for synonyms for

THE END

Themes - economics, travel, value

Your turn - Submit a 600 word piece of fiction based on one of these three themes and a selection will be placed on the blog. Happy writing.