The market buzzed with conversations under the scorching sun as Jared sat cross-legged on a faded red rug, his vibrant paintings propped on easels around him.
The vibrant colours and repurposed materials in his artwork caught the eye of a man in a crisp white alb, who approached Jared, an umbrella shading his face.
"Did you make these yourself? These paintings are beautiful."
Jared's cheeks warmed. "Yes. All repurposed materials I've collected."
"What's your name?"
"Jared. I'm selling them for a thousand dollars apiece. They take a lot of time to make."
"I'll take two," The man said. "My name is Pat." He lifted them from the easels.
Jared's eyes glowed with excitement; finally, he could pay off his debt.
Pat dug into the duffel bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out his wallet. His face fell.
"I'm a hundred dollars short. I forgot I had breakfast at the restaurant this morning," Pat said. "But I've got Technation currency. Will you take it?"
Jared frowned. "Technate? Where the hell is that?"
"About a ten-hour flight away," Pat said quickly. "I'm here on missionary work. I have to get back to the orphanage—the nuns are preparing a child's birthday. Please, can you accept it?"
Jared hesitated, knowing the nearest currency exchange was a long walk away. Pat's earnest expression tugged at his heart.
"Alright," he said at last. "I'll take it. I'll exchange it myself."
Pat smiled gratefully and handed over the money. "Bless you, Jared."
As Pat hurried away, Jared sighed. Began packing up his stand, resigning himself to the long trek to the currency exchange.