March's Writing Challange

The challenge was to break away from my normal aesthetic zone. My comfort zone.

March Challenge. (Must include two salesmen fighting over a beautiful women, written in the style of M.Night Shamalan, the women must be married to a "crab".

I’ve spent most of my life selling these little products; all you need to do is tuck them away behind your ear. I’m supposed to tell everyone that they help you fall asleep. Lure you away like a soft siren’s hymns. As I comb my hair and straighten my tie, the large oak door swings open and there she stood before me. For once in my life, I ran out of words. My lips became instantly dry and all the cliché’s seemed to vanish from my mind. “H-hello Miss, I was told that you have trouble sleeping at night?”
For a strange reason, all I wanted to do is for her to fall in love with me. I’ve never had this feeling before; it was like a string in my heart has unraveled itself and now stretching out to tie a knot around hers. Love, What a silly emotion.
Apparently, I’ve been standing on her doorstep for a while. With a long drawn out sigh, her voice shattered absentminded thoughts. “I have a sales man inside my house right now, He keeps running his mouth and saying something like that all I needed was to take one of these dumb pills. Do you have pills for me too dear?”
The world started to spin, I wasn’t sure why and I can’t really recall what happened next. I do remember I spent the happiest days of my life from that night on.
I remember that whenever she couldn’t sleep at night, I would make her a hot cup of Oolong tea and put it besides her bed. She wouldn’t even drink it, but apparently the aroma was enough to carry her away. I would then lie down beside her and tell her wondrous tales of a worlds we haven’t seen. I told her stories of people whom we’ve haven’t met. Dreams we have yet to share together. I spent each night with her sleeping against my arm and every time she moved, pins and needles stabbed my slumbering arm.
Me on the other hand, I couldn’t sleep. It has always amazed me that a simple door to door salesman can end up with the most precious and beautiful treasure.
“Excuse me, Sir?” The voice appears again and I open my eyes. Once again, there she is. Beautiful as always, standing with one leg propped out from her silk night gown. The large oak door starts to close as she shifts awkwardly back inside her house.
The loud thundering slam echoed throughout the small cutler sack and shook me from my reverie. My eyes adjusted and almost twitched as they stared at a gold plated mail box that read, “Mr and Misses Crab”.
I guess not only did I lose my sale to those “dumb pills”, I also lost the chance to fall in love.