The line was long at the Memory Exchange. It was a Sunday, which was usually the least crowded day. As I finished tidying the rest of the merchandise, a man banged on the locked door. "It's 9! You should be open now!" The man pounded on the glass, clearly growing more impatient as I hurried to the lock. With just one glance (and some intuition), I could tell that the man was likely unemployed, single, and wearing a cap to hide his balding. No one else would dare to arrive at the Memory Exchange so early. I unlocked the door and hurried towards the counter. The people flooded in; while some of the older folks studied the jarred memories on the shelves, the majority were waiting at the counter. The capped man tapped on the glass divider. "What's the pricing here again?" I pointed to the sign taped to the window. "It's a penny for your thoughts. Nothing more, nothing less." The man grumbled. "You sure you can't give me more?" I shook my head. "A penny for your thoughts. That's all." "Fine. You can take a thousand of my thoughts." The man extended his hand, and I attached the Memory Pad to his palm, carefully aligning the wires to the creases in his hands. "We're done here. Here's ten dollars." I passed the man a ten. Satisfied, he rushed out the door. I called the next person in line to the counter. It was a little girl, her head barely peeking over the counter. "Hi! Can I get pennies for my thoughts?" Surprised, I raised an eyebrow. "Sweetie, I think you're a little too young to be exchanging your memories." The girl sighed. "My mom is dying. My dad doesn't remember anything anymore. We can't afford her treatment." The girl extended her hand, ready for her memories to be transferred to the Vacuum. I fidgeted with the register, not knowing what to do. "You understand that every memory you exchange is a part of you that you won't remember, right?" The girl nodded her head. "I know what happened to my dad. But we really need the money. I don't have a choice." "Hurry up! Don't hold up the entire line, we've got things to do!" A woman hollered from the back of the line. I reluctantly placed the Memory Pad on her palm. "How many thoughts would you like to exchange?" The girl stared at her shoes. "I need a hundred dollars. How many thoughts is that?" "It's a penny for your thoughts. That's 10,000 thoughts for a hundred dollars. How old are you?" "Six." I shuddered. 10,000 thoughts would be nearly her entire lifetime. "Are you sure you want to do this?" "Yes." With trembling hands, I pressed the Vacuum button. I watched her eyes turn dull, the thoughts slowly leaking out of her and into the Vacuum. "You won't remember this, but I'm sorry."
