It took a little time to work up the courage to go.
You had a few friends that you trusted with the news, once you made your decision.
Mostly the same ones who knew who you really were, and not who you had to pretend to be.
(Would you have to go back to work? Would you even need money anymore?)
You decided to visit a center a couple of hours away, just to be safe.
A few people noticed. You told them you were doing the konmari thing.
If only they knew what was really sparking your joy.
You spent the night in a hotel. Had a can drop you off at a coffee place a few blocks away.
Your last cup of coffee was a cinnamon mocha with extra whipped cream.
A pair of units stood outside. One with a tall, lean build and deep green antenna “ears”, the other broader with generous curves and fire engine red antennas.
Somehow you knew both of them were watching as you approached.
Green doesn’t exactly nod to you, but something in his body language seems to signal agreement.
Neither of them are actually blocking the door. It’s just up to you to step through.
The only thing that hints at the purpose of this place is what’s on the desk.
He doesn’t respond in words, of course, but he does lift a headset out of its cradle before offering it to you.
Something in your gut says this is the point of no return.
But as you stare at the unit’s beautifully sculpted hands and arms, you know that it’s not a mistake at all.
For a moment there’s nothing. Then a burst of static, a series of several musical tones, and finally a voice speaks to you, soft, warm, and clear.
“Welcome.”