Louie took a deep breath and looked around his room. The floor was barely visible, covered with boxes that were stacked to the ceiling. Pulling off his pinstriped pajamas in exchange for his bowling alley uniform, he made his way from his twin bed to the apartment door. He slid the small, silver key into the front pocket of his button-up shirt, along with 5 one dollar bills, topped with a winter coat.

Preferring the stairs to the elevator, Louie loped out into the harsh weather. Watching each and every step he took, he became engrossed in the angles the broken pavement made on the dirty streets outside his apartment building. Lost in thoughts of the perfect, mathematical patterns, he didn't hear the small plink of that very important, very small key falling out of his pocket as he passed the lonely, dripping wet lemonade cart. Louie's mind is often preoccupied with such thoughts.

On any other day, Louie would have spent his money on a cup of lemonade, but the weather proved otherwise. He wondered fleetingly why the boy wasn't there, and was a bit discouraged. Louie always had a joke up his sleeve, and no one else around here seemed to have a sense of humor. But, as usual, his mind wandered back to the distractions of his surroundings and the fear of being late for work.