Rejected

Preparing

It took him three hours to make it the twenty blocks back to his apartment from the noodle shop. He strolled into a park and watched the children there burn off post-school energy. Playing. Not on phones. Not tweeting about the height of their swing or posting about who showed up that day. Not worried about how many followers they had or likes they had received. Milo was sure that they all wanted smart phones (what child does not want sleek and flashy) but forced to live in the physical world, they more than made do. He left when a few of the parents (most definitely on their phones) started looking at him suspiciously, one even taking his picture, maybe recognizing him (he did not recognize them) and whispering.

He watched a construction crew loading supplies on a lift. The manager had his phone out, but the people doing the work were trading jokes with their voices not their screens. He watched a stray cat stalking pigeons; pigeons who did not post about the threat but cooed and squawked to those in the immediate vicinity who needed to know. Then he watched the people walking the streets: determined strides, heads down, phones out, earphones in. They paid just enough attention to their surroundings to avoid obstacles and each other. Their world was in their hands, in their phones. Everything else was a distraction.

By the time he hiked up the stairs to the door of his apartment (an apartment he did not own in a building full of people he did not know), Milo had settled on his plan and started putting it into action.

First, he had to quit his job. That took thirty seconds on the laptop, most of which was spent waiting for it to boot. He sent a message to Gary with the subject line, "I Quit". The body read, "This is not working out. I'm leaving effective immediately. I'm not going to a competitor or anywhere else. I'm removing myself from the work force. I've thrown out my phone and there is no way to reach me. I'll return my laptop soon. Sincerely, Milo."

Next, he had to find a place that was not in the city. A natural place. A place without people or technology. That took some time on Google Maps. He finally settled on northeastern Quebec. He could get there in a day or two of driving and there were very few people. He found a logging road that looked promising and had the laptop print him directions.

Then he had to get rid of things. He had so many things. Things that he had purchased because he thought that he needed them. Where he was going, he did not need things like a toaster oven or microwave or sectional sofa. He did not need matching towels or an ultra high definition television. So many of these things were pointless luxuries designed to help him feel better about his lot in life. To distract him. Throwing it all out was an option, but seemed a waste. Donating it was a better option, but Milo knew he would need some money for supplies. He walked around his apartment with an old digital camera snapping pictures and posting them on Craigslist. Each with a description that ended with "Sorry, no phone. Email only."

Milo then had to buy things. But different things from the things he was selling. Not comforts or conveniences or distractions, but tools. He knew better than to go into the wilderness with nothing more than the clothes on his back. He would need a tent. A week or two of freeze dried food. Matches. He made a list and was a little depressed by how long it was. He crossed a few items out (Did he really need bar soap if there was no one else to smell him?).

To get all of these new things out of the city and up to Quebec, he would also need a car. Living in the city, he had been able to get around on foot or on the trains or, rarely, with a taxi. Renting was not an option, he intended to abandon the car and lying to the agency seemed the wrong way to start this new life. He eventually found one on a dealer's lot, one that fit the budget and capacity needs of his project. Picking it up however, turned out to be trickier than anticipated: to buy a car he did not need a driver's license, but to pick up a car he did. His had expired three years ago. That meant that he needed to retake the test... for which he needed a car. Finally, he found a mid-90s Subaru wagon from a private seller who assumed that because Milo was buying a car, he was also licensed to operate a car.