Smell Exchange

The Curious Everyman approached a room on the façade of which hung a sign with a name that seemed unusual to the Everyman: “Smell Exchange.”

 

He arrived at the beginning of the establishment’s working day. Upon entering, he was surprised: the exchange was working, life was in full swing and exuded a variety of smells. And, like music, the stock exchange was a place of harmony and cacophony... of smells. Sometimes they attracted, like the smell of fresh melon or mint, sometimes they repelled, like jasmine.

 

On the man’s right hand were stands, above which stood a sign: “Futures.” Along the left hand were the same rows of racks, but above them hung another sign that read “Illiquid Stock.” The exchange traded the past and the future. Only the auction itself was its present time.

 

Trying to see what the brokers and dealers of the exchange were selling and buying, the Curious Everyman found himself at a loss: on the racks with the names of companies selling scents, there were empty jars, reminiscent in appearance and size of jars of baby food, and piles of papers. Voices were heard from both the right and the left: “I’m selling 20 banana’s!”, “I’m buying 30 orange’s!”, “I’m selling, I’m selling!”, “I’m buying, I’m buying!”. There was a mixture of smells and screams in the air, smelling of hope and despair mixed with raspberries and lavender, coffee and tangerines.

 

The number of jars and papers on the counters of brokers and dealers was constantly changing - trading was quite brisk.

 

The gazes of both were directed to the scoreboard, where sets of letters and numbers incomprehensible to the Everyman constantly flashed.

 

It is worth noting that all those trading on the stock exchange had an exceptional sense of smell. It was for this quality that exchange companies selected brokers and dealers. Each of them could blindly distinguish the smell of next year's orange futures from last season's orange illiquid stock. Illiquid assets were sold at bargain prices, but were still a hot commodity. Their scents were mingled with the aroma of hope or despair, depending on the progress of the auction.

 

The same thing happened with futures, because exchange manipulation and speculation, which are the basis of this industry, could easily, in a split second, bankrupt or enrich sellers or buyers. Those who had the best instinct and excellent sense of smell won.

 

Despite the fact that the exchange was no different from the market - in appearance and the atmosphere that reigned in this place - in this harmony and cacophony of sounds and smells, the positive dynamics of trading prevailed, which either attracted or repelled the Curious Everyman. Trading - the lifeblood of the exchange - seemed sometimes unsteady, sometimes unshakable, but they flowed - sometimes sluggishly, sometimes dynamically, ensuring the circulation of the blood of this huge organism with its complex mechanisms, sales techniques, manipulations and speculations, agreements and their violations. There was everything and everyone - hopes and disappointments, victories and defeats. There was life and death, ups and downs, and it all had its own smells.

 

Despite all the incomprehensibility and unknown principles and mechanisms of the exchange, one thing was clear to the average person: the exchange is alive, thriving and smelling. Everything flowed, changed and replaced, but, most importantly, did not stop.

 

Gradually delving into the elegant, graceful logic of the operation of stock exchange mechanisms, the Curious Everyman began to like everything he saw, heard, and smelled. Walking between the endless rows, he was not bored. Even if some smells irritated him, they were immediately replaced by others that were pleasant to his nose.  

 

A little tired from his adventure, the Everyman headed towards the exit to have a snack and then continue his observations. As a diligent student or researcher, he wrote down everything new and incomprehensible in a notebook. Next to some of the entries there were question marks, which indicated points he did not understand and required clarification. Next to the others there were exclamation marks, meaning that he understood the essence of what was happening. Ultimately, his goal was to assemble a mosaic of smells and numbers, answer all questions and describe in colors everything he saw, heard, felt. After all, he sinned with writing.

 

Approaching the exit, he noticed a man in a raincoat and hat, which greatly surprised him, because all the events of this story took place in mid-August. The Weird Stranger wore leather gloves on his hands, and his eyes were hidden behind huge sunglasses that hid more than half of his face. He quickly walked between the rows, quietly taking out from his bag small jars identical to those that stood on the tables of brokers and dealers, at first glance, no different from them. In the crowd and noise that reigned on the exchange, none of those trading or buying paid attention to the Weird Stranger while he pulled out his jars and placed them on the tables. At some point, his bag was empty, and the Stranger hurried to the exit. The glances of the Weird Stranger and the Curious Everyman met for a split second. The man in the street managed to see the Stranger’s face and was horrified: he had no nose. This means that he did not smell. Couldn’t distinguish smells.

 

Suddenly, the Stranger made something similar to ultrasound, causing everyone on the spot to cover their ears. At that moment, thousands of jars standing on the tables exploded. Everything was mixed up. A moment later, a previously unknown smell filled the exchange. It caused suffocation, the eyes of everyone present began to water, and people fell to the ground. Ten minutes later, which was enough for the Weird Stranger to leave the exchange and hide, everyone in the building managed to recover from the shock. But only partially. The smell from the Stranger's jars not only absorbed all the usual smells of the stock exchange. It created a new, pungent and disgusting smell, a stench that completely deprived all brokers and dealers of their sense of smell. This meant a complete collapse of the exchange.

 

Luckily for the Curious Everyman, he had a runny nose. Before the jars exploded, he sneezed and took a handkerchief from his trouser pocket, which saved him from the terrible consequences of the explosion.

 

The villain who detonated numerous bombs in the market miscalculated. He was sure that the collapse of the stock exchange would destroy the smells, and this would compensate for his complex, his congenital disease. And everyone will become like him. Or rather, he will become like everyone else. And he will no longer be a freak and an outcast.

 

But the Strange Stranger encroached only... on the symbol. On the effect, not the cause. The Weird Stranger did not take into account the fact that the exchange was only a place where one could buy and sell this or that smell, or a mixture of smells. But they were not released by people. They were produced by Nature itself. And the collapse of the stock exchange is not the collapse of Nature. After all, killing Nature is a task that cannot be accomplished by one person.

 

Over time, brokers and dealers received aromatherapy treatments. Their sense of smell was restored, and the exchange started working again.

 

This story became known thanks to the notes of the Curious Everyman. You can view them in the local museum, located not far from the exchange, which still operates to this day.

 

May 26, 2017, original (Russian) version.