Matthew leaves the threshold of his home, going through the normal ritualistic pat-down, phone, check, keys, check, wallet, check, brain?… sure. Sigh, right then keep going. He paid no attention to the blocks as he passed them, instead lost in his head among thoughts of what needs doing and who needs calling, when he got to the railway overpass leading to the mall and subway. Dry as a bone. He like this bridge, usually, sometimes there are huddles of teenagers looking like they might want to vandalize something, but sometimes there’s a little kid with their parent, looking over the side as a train comes by and jumping up as it passes under them, as if it would have hit them. He’d done that to with his parents standing by and watching, imaginably with equal glee to the looks of the parents he saw now. But there was no one here today, not as he crossed the bridge or as he started down from it. As he took a step down he slipped, and launched his keys from his hand down onto the tracks below. Peering over the side he couldn’t see his keys anymore, but that had been years ago on a snowy day, and his keys were not there anymore.