The bottles of tears line the shelves, rows upon rows. Filled to nearly overflowing. Collected over millennia, they stand as reminders of the human response to emotion.
Happy. Sad. Angry. As the tears flow, more bottles are filled and come down the line. The system organizes them with speed and efficiency. This is a warehouse, industrial, stern. No mood lighting. No gentle music.
But every once in a while, the sun will filter through the one window high up on the eastern wall and the light will catch the angle just right. And for a moment, there will be rainbows.