note #81

the sound of korean pop music fills the bright workroom. workers sit at their stations performing their tasks: inspecting parts, stringing them together, painting heads and bodies. in another workroom, workers carefully pour resin into prepared molds, then move them quickly to the pressure pots. jin lee presides over a nearby office, flitting between computer and printer, answering questions and producing shipping labels with their corresponding lists attached.

suddenly everyone goes quiet as the sound of a phone breaks the pleasant atmosphere. jin lee calmly reaches for the phone and plucks the handset from its cradle. "it is time." the voice on the other end intones. "yes sir!" jin lee replies and hangs up.

from the casting room a low rumble emits, growing steadily. everyone rushes to witness the next creation being born. the pressure pots glow with unearthly light, then burst forth with joyous abandon, spilling heliot bits all over the floor. the workers scramble to pick up and sort all of the parts.

around the world anxious herd members stir in their sleep and drift off into space for a moment at their waking tasks. hope swells in their breasts. hope that soon, very soon, a shipping notice will arrive.