Feeling his guilt mounting for weeks now he began searching for a confessional box. Googling his way forward on his I-phone he finally hit on an app simply called  'confessing'. Could he even do it online? No, the app says, this will be a future service, so far you still have to go to an actual location which can be found here...

He had to take the subway to go to an area of the city unknown to him before. While he was doing that he couldn't stop thinking about remorse and redemption. Actually going to a confessional box via subway appeared to be a therapy in itself.

Splinters of his past showed their humiliating heads. And humiliating they were, all those ugly feelings of not having hit the mark of whatever moral doctrine had been imposed on him.

Finally he reached the subway stop that had been indicated on the web page. Supposedly it would be just a 10 min. foot-walk to his destination. He wandered through a pretty run down environment and wondered about the hidden connection underlying this environment and his purpose. He remembered how he once read a book with the devious title 'What Is Wrong About Guilt?' in which guilt was promoted as a wonderful human experience. Really? In his mind it wore people out, he knew it by himself!

Slightly disappointed he rang the  bell next to it and entered an unassuming room with a cheap looking desk in the otherwise empty space.

First he couldn't figure the place out he was supposed to find. Then he recognized it from the website: a kind of bluish painted building basically covered by graffiti. He passed through an arc, crossed the courtyard behind it and reached an undesigned door. A small sign said ' confessional box'. Slightly disappointed he rang the  bell next to it and entered an unassuming room with a cheap looking desk and a folding chair in the otherwise empty space.

"Please sit down in front of the desk!" said an automated voice in an authoritative way.
I guess that is what guilty people are seeking, he thought, an authority. What else could relieve him of his moral debt?

He sat down and immediately the center of the desk started to move from its underground and, folding upwards, a strange-looking machine became slowly visible. It looked kind of a crossbreed of a cashier, gambling machine and a microwave.

By now he had accepted the alien nature of his redemption process. The guilt machine (as he secretely called it) indicated its readiness for business through some blinking lights and the screened request to insert 10$ into the appropriate slot by whichever coins available to get started. He wondered what would come up next. He didn't have to wait.

"Please choose your service! " the voice said with automated authority.
Really? He wondered how this could work out as a proper confession! A question mark on the right side of the screen indicated more information.

'Glad you are here', he read. ' This machine is run by a state-of-the-art Sin Recognition Software, (c) SRP. It already scanned your brain, your heart rate and the grounding of your bottom (since you are presumably sitting). So go ahead and choose the service appropriate to your sinful state'.

This machine had still some surprises for him! He clicked the info away and looked at the list of services.

' Finding authority'
' Understanding YOU'
' Women only'
' Men only'
' Young people's guide to redemption'
' Devious children'
' Are you a Bully?'
' Missed the mark?

Although he was impressed by the list he couldn't really decide on an appropriate service for himself. Finally he touch-screened on the first: 'Finding Authority'.

"Sit upright and tell me your main sins!" The apparatus requested.

He straightened himself up and cleansed his throat.
"Well, what do you mean by 'main' sins?"

"We know you are lying, so just tell me your favorite sins! And hurry up a bit, others might be waiting!"

Slightly intimidated he turned around but couldn't detect anybody. He wasn't sure about a shadow near the door though . .  .

"It is mainly one sin, but I am repeating it again and again: I am participating in a program, its called 30 Day Groove that lets me choose a challenge which I am supposed to check off whenever I am done with it. And I just don't get around doing it. So I can't check it off, naturally."

"Are you kidding me? This is a serious confessional box! Anything else!"

"Well, not really . . .  but I feel terribly guilty about it. I even thought about contacting the founders of the program. "

"And what are they supposed to do?  Just get it done and that's that! Now let's get you a nice penance! - Ok, there are the usual lies, that is 25x, then your main sin, that is 45x, 70x all over. Listen, sinner, every day starting today you have to repeat 70x ' Even if I feel guilty like hell I will be happy and healthy and try to avoid trappings like overeating, overdrinking, oversleeping, overworking and oversexing by all means!' "

"But this is just your middle-off-the-road positive thinking bullshit!" he burst out.

"Exactly, that is your penance, got it? And now get on with it ! I see you again in four weeks, sinner! "

The screen darkened and the guilt-machine went underground.

Somehow dumbfounded he got up and left. He registered that nobody else was waiting. The door clicked behind him.

While he was walking towards the subway station he contemplated his recent experience. In spite of its strangeness he noticed a distinct feeling of relief. He had read that the founders of the program he had chosen to participate in once considered writing a book with the title 'Trivial Pursuits, Trivial Sins.' Then they encountered the guilt-machine and immediately abandoned the project.