On the ground he found a note that had directions written on it. The streets had names he had never heard of, but he put it in his pocket after carefully checking to see if he could spell his name by rearranging the letters. He had tried doing that with a newspaper once but had gotten bored and ended up pretending to be a spy and following a family as they walked through the park. That was the day he had taken a trip to the beach and found a rounded brick among the rocks. He tried to imagine waves pushing a brick house into the sea and the force of the tide bringing the brick to shore after years of effort. It was a hard thing to imagine, and eventually he gave up and paid attention to where he was walking. He made sure to check the street names in case any matched the note he had found.

This might not have been the place the note had in mind, but it was certainly interesting in terms of people. He found a nice space between a brick wall and a dumpster where he could hide while he watched the people, which was something he hadn't thought of doing in years. Not since he had pretended to be a spy. He waited a while and nothing very interesting happened, but just as he was losing patience a man hurried by, obviously running from the mob or the police or some kind of organization. Or maybe he was on his way to work. It felt a little strange to be hiding behind dumpsters while people hurried to work, but it was his calling, and he was good at it.