The shoe closet held eight bags. Commute. Weekends. Travel. Rain. Shopping. Gym. Formal. Backup.
Each had reason. Each held memory. One person reduced to one. Life became lighter than expected.
Too Many Choices Disguise Themselves as Freedom
Eight bags mean a daily choice: which one? The decision time is nothing. But daily nothing adds up. It's a tax on attention. Plus, swapping contents: wallet, keys, phone, ID, earbuds, handkerchief. Swap bags, forget something. Every time something falls out, the whole day tints. One bag. One simple life.

