Avatara

I called my shop Bloomsbury Eden and it opened on a bl.u.s.tery Tuesday evening. It was located at 42 Store St, Bloomsbury, WC1E, slightly hidden by a tree and had a compact facade that made it cosy and inviting to trendy shoppers. I made friends with the manager of the coffee shop next door and was happy to make one or two sales on the opening day.

Pixel was a great help and she was enthusiastic about everything, even doing the heavy lifting of items and clearing out all the trash. Dressed in a funky black jacket, tight jeans and thick soled trainers. She wore glasses and her long black curly hair tied back because of course we worked with flowers and plants.

It was one week after opening, when a man came in avatara form as a medieval knight, his form shimmering. Although Avatara is illegal in the UK, everyone is doing it, so the police have stopped trying to arrest anyone for using it.

The bell sounded as he entered through the door. He was a large man (which did not necessarily mean he was a big man in real life) and his knight's costume had a skull on the front. He looked scary from afar but close up he had the harmless expression on his face.

"Welcome!" I said.

"Hey! Can I have a bunch of mixed flowers please!" he replied.

"Of course sir." I asked him if he wanted anything specific but he was not fussy.

He commented on how much he liked the layout of the shop, a compliment that on reflection I took in my stride.

"I have a girlfriend now, thanks to the Avatara program." I thought this was another way of saying that he looked insignificant in real life. And being so proud of himself for being able to get a girlfriend probably meant he was a loser.

"I've heard it brings people closer together," I replied. My tone of voice started off flat and then I put in a little effort at the end of the statement, leading to an upswing in its pitch. This is the one major drawback of the service industry. You have to entertain customers and make their words and feelings as important as possible even when they are wrong, rude or in this case, boring.

"Oh man, I would like to meet the dude who designed it. He must be a genius!" If only he knew, that 'he' was a 'she' and that 'she' was standing right in front of him.

"I'm very happy for you," I said. The wrapped flowers felt soft between my hands. I admired them for a moment, a bouquet of white and red roses. The red represents passion and love and the white represents purity. Simple and direct, his girlfriend would love it.

"I'm sure your girlfriend would really love these flowers," I said.

"Yeah but she not really able to tell the difference between them. She tries her best. You know she also goes into avatara form and likes taking the form of a fairy. Her wings are a real pain when we go out."

I nervously laughed briefly to hide the awkwardness. Then he looked at me with deep eye contact. And that's when I sensed a creepy moment coming.

"By the way," he said. "I really like this new flower shop, you've got so many beautiful things here. I was just wondering though." He leaned in closer to me over the counter and raised an eyebrow. "Has anyone told you that your necklace looks good with your blue eyes?" I wore a sapphire necklace that shimmered, I couldn't leave it at home.

His eyes were fixed on my c.h.e.s.t and he was breathing heavily. My patience was exhausted, I just wanted him out of my shop.

"That will be twenty pounds."

My firm response made him stand up straight. "I guess not," he said. For a moment he stood there looking dumb. Maybe also considering to argue the price. Then he reached into his wallet.

He murmured a thank you as he left, and I caught a smirk on Pixel's face. She placed a box on the floor in the corner in an area that had not been designated for displaying flowers. It contained packs of flower seeds that we would be selling to aficionados wanting to plant their own flowers.

"What a tool. He is so losing his girlfriend," Pixel said. "Avatara does give people the sort of confidence that they would not have as their normal selves though."

She wiped her hands on her apron, and let out a sigh.

"Are you tired?" I said.

"No, I'm a bit hungry though," said Pixel. "Only a little bit."

"Well it's coming up to six o'clock," I said. "We might as well start closing up." We started our routines for closing the shop, which were now hard wired like a ritual.

"Sure," said Pixel. Then after a brief moment she asked me a pointed question.

"Grace, what do you think about Avatara?" I felt weird inside, almost in the way a worm squirms if you cover it with salt. I answered the question in the typical way people do when they are feeling really uncomfortable, by asking a question back.

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Ah, I'm asking, I mean there's that guy who just came in now-"

I interjected. "Well technically, he might be a girl in real life, could just be her avatara form."

"Haha, true," said Pixel. "But yes him or her, the avatara on the street and flying in the sky. They are everywhere and it's really making the world a weird place. It's like there are no borders anymore."

"Hmm," I replied.

"I just wanted your opinion on it," said Pixel. Her voice tailed off and she took off her apron.

Something made me feel compelled to give her an answer. "I don't like it myself. It doesn't feel real when you are not in your real body."

"Have you ever used it?" Pixel said.

"Yes I did. It was fun sometimes, feeling like you are in a dream, flying the skies. But it was never enough." I had to stop talking as I realised I was not talking about Avatara, I was talking about my relationship with Jazz.