Joseph Scuttle settled down in the leather armchair and curled his fingers around the soft, cracked material at the end of the arms. He drew small circles with his fingertips and felt tiny pieces of the leather crumble away and slip onto the floor. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply through his nose and held the breath as long as he could. All he could hear was the regimented ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the thudding of his heart growing louder and faster the longer he held his breath.

After a minute, though it felt longer, Joseph slowly let the air from his lungs and opened his eyes. His breathing quickened briefly whilst his body caught up but then settled back to normality. He briefly contemplated how he kept breathing when he was not actually thinking about it and what would happen if he did not. Would he ever be able to concentrate on anything fully? Could you actually forget to breathe? The thought lingered for a while until the doorbell distracted his attention. He got up and, without a thought for breathing, made his way to the door in order to open it.

At first he did not react at all. It was only when the panda asked if he could interest Joseph in double-glazing that anything seemed strange.

"Err...no thanks", said Joseph.

Undeterred, the panda held out a printed piece of paper that said, 'Panda Glazing...cheap but not nasty...ask me for a free quote.'

Suddenly Joseph found the words, "Can I have a quote please?", coming out of his mouth.

"Certainly!", replied the panda. "Morality, like art, means drawing a line someplace."

"I never thought of it like that", mused Joseph. "Do you think we ever forget how to breathe?"

The panda laughed and rolled his eyes. Shaking his head and still smiling he chuckled, "It's impossible. You should concern yourself with more important things."

"Like what?"

"Well, double glazing for starters."

Joseph snorted.

"You may well snort my friend but some people do very well out of it".

Joseph suddenly wished that he had never opened the door and had remained in the armchair and brushing small pieces of material onto the floor. The doorstep was cold and he was not wearing any slippers.

"Look, what do you want?" he asked of the panda, feeling slightly annoyed now.

"I'm fed up with eating bamboo and lying around all day looking at the sky", said the panda, "I'm trying to sell windows so I can make a new life for myself and progress."

"But I've already got windows!"

"Oh...ok," said the panda, not sounding half as confident as he had at the start of the conversation. "Could you use any bamboo shoots?"

"No thanks. Look...I'm a little busy right now..." Joseph trailed off.

The panda thanked him for his time and Joseph closed the door. As he made his way back to his chair he could see the bear walking up the path of the house next door, printed paper in hand, ready to try his luck again.

"Fucking salesmen."


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