He limps into the office, his soul lagging behind like an unwilling child on a grocery run. One arm, then the other slipped into the pin-striped straight jacket, next the noose secured in a Double Windsor. Bi-monthly direct deposits pay off the hit man responsible for napping his inner-kid.

“Why not today?” he dreams.

“Time cannot be replaced.” the familiar realization yanks at his weary heart.

“Freedom would be worth the trade.” he knows it to be true.

The decision is instantly simple. He jaywalks away from the concrete island of misery. No need to look back.

“You and me, kid…you and me.”