Faults (F2R)

Sandra, leaning against the counter, continued to chew a small little bit of vegetable that had somehow managed to appear from somewhere between her teeth. A small little varmint, illusive, despite her chomping teeth trying to end the event.

“Hello!” said a voice from her side. She jumped a little, startled, realising that she’d been paying far too much attention to the contents of her mouth.

“Hello Sir, how are you today?” she replied, with a very large smile.

“I’m not okay, but I will be eventually!”

Sandra’s smile vanished as her face changed to visible concern, “Oh no, let’s see if we can resolve your situation as soon as possible. Please, take a seat.”

She gesticulated towards a chair over in the corner of the store. As they both walked across the room, Sandra continued her usual dialog, “What’s your name?” she asked, as he sat.

“Joe!”

“Okay Joe, tell me absolutely everything.”

It was this part of her job that she found interesting, un-nerving, sometimes disturbing and, often, a shame. Mostly, she heard the same stories over and over again, the same said issues of life. Hopefully, Joe would be different.

Joe, furrowing his nose a little, looked down at his hands that were sat upon his lap. Tears started to form within his eyes, as he started his individual story.

“I want to be a better person. I have issues. Some silly, nothing to write home about or really complain to anyone, but I just want to change!”

Sandra, knowing that this wouldn’t be any more exciting than a ham sandwich upon a sun filled day, asked the usual question.

“What would you like to change?”

“I want to be fashionable. I want to change my diet. I just want the confidence to be popular!”

The moment Joe finished speaking, she remained tight lipped. She wanted to tell him, to tell all of them, to do the work. The difficult work. The inner work that no-one seemed to do anymore. No quick fixes, the embracement of struggle, maximum development as a person, the tears and crying of a heart and soul breaking were, of course, worth the struggle and sacrifice. He’d become stronger, he’d survive life’s strife and tribulations and, most of all, be able to stand on his own two feet. Improving and finding an inner balance was, above all, critical for each and every single person.

Instead of speaking, she smiled. She pushed aside the thoughts of Joe becoming more than he’d ever be. Rooted. Connected. His frequency amplified and, more than likely, finding the root of his ‘real’ issues. Heck, finding his prana would be a start. 

“Okay, Joe, I have the perfect option for you. It’s our extra special ‘confidence pack’, level two, as we want to make sure that you get the full benefit!”

Joe, looking up at Sandra, smiled a heavy, sodden filled smile. She knew that he just wanted whatever was going on within his thoughts to end, as soon as possible. Maybe it was for the best, the best for Joe and, who was she to think otherwise.

“How much would that cost?” he asked, his smile showing hope of sanctuary and a respite from his thinking mind.

Sandra, pausing to build tension and worth, replied, “That would be eight hundred and forty-nine pounds.”

Joe nodded, holding up his wrist bank device. Sandra pressed her wrist bank to his, with the triple beeps clarifying the completed sale

“Okay, Joe, please press your crown, the back of your head, to the seat!”

As Joe relaxed his head, applying his crown, two green lights appeared. Sandra knew that this meant a connection to the Sahasrara was completed. From there, she now had access to the other six important systems of Joe’s body. She found it odd that, after the many thousands of years, the basic teachings of spirituality had it all correct from the start. It all drummed down to simply improving the bodies energy flow. Be it spiritual, logical, physical or other, it was all there for everyone to see.

She finally gave in to her inner thoughts. “Joe, are you sure?” she asked with a tentative voice, “once you do this, there’s no going back and you’ll miss your chance to improve naturally?”

Joe shook his head which, frankly, did not shock Sandra at all. The quick fix. The lack of a fight. The frailty and fear of having to make and accept lifelong changes. The thought of months of progression, change and fulfilment meant nothing to a generation raised upon mobile devices, quick fixes and dopamine enhancement.

She pressed the third button and, within an instant, Joe winced ever so slightly. Eventually, the third button turned to green. The sequence, complete, the moment, done.

“How do you feel?” she asked, knowing the answer.

Joe, blinking around ten times, shook his head a little, as he looked at what he was wearing. He raised his arms, the disgust written across his face, “What on earth am I wearing? It’s awful! Isn’t this awful?”

Sandra smiled, shrugging her shoulders, understanding that she had now enabled Joe to be the exact same person as the hundreds upon thousands of previous participants. Joe jumped up from the chair, saluted Sandra, then walked out of the store.

She shook her head slightly. She’d give anything  for a man that would own his issues, resolve them and, basically, own their own faults.