He lived off the six train for a number of years, on and off, five, maybe six if he counts the time on 3rd avenue which he tries to forget. He'd come up for air at Astor Place, taking stairs two at a time, balancing his discman between his thumb and index so the music wouldn't skip. The cube is back, a good start, he thinks, no one pushing it, though, the rain never kept them away before, and he wonders where they all went.