Rodent didn’t talk to anyone on the elevator ride down and only offered to select the floors for those who hopped on.

Only he and a few others got off on the ground floor, which still made him anxious that he could leave freely.

Even on the way out, he glanced from side to side at the nurses, doctors, and security, fearing one of them would both recognize him and bring him back to his room. The hospital was like a prison like that.

However, those who did recognize him only smiled or waved—which made him feel slightly more at ease.

And before he knew it, he was out of those large, twin doors, where a sidewalk curved around a road and then split multiple ways around and across the hospital grounds.

For whatever reason, he always expected someone to be waiting for him.

Even though that was never the case.

Rodent left and did not take the bus. He walked as the evening sun started sinking behind the horizon, wandering until the hospital was long behind and a worn-out city surrounded him.

People passed him, staring down at their phones, with cars he barely recognized travelling on the road. He felt like a man out of place.

A list of things that I want to do, huh?

Rodent fished his hands into his pockets and stared up at the sky, which had been a dark hue of orange as night soon approached. He didn’t want to go home—or, rather, the place he had been staying at. He just wanted to keep walking—keep moving—as keeping still never felt right.

And before he knew it, he had arrived at a trail that led him into a park, one set before a short cliff that stared off into the water. The area was empty as Rodent sat on the bench, though a few seconds later, a jogger passed him by.

Rodent was left to take a deep, cool breath, one that nearly caused his lungs to start hacking again. He contained his coughing better this time as he shifted in place, reaching into his pocket for his notebook, taking it out and flipping to the first page.

He blinked while staring at it. His lips opened, but nothing followed. He felt around his pockets for a pen—which he took to the page. He stared at the white space between the lines and tried to think of what he wanted.

Yet as he sat there, nothing came to his head or rose from his heart, his body feeling worn and empty.

What if there’s nothing that I want?

The man deflated as he spread out… until making a contact that should have been impossible… shifting left and pulling back into himself. He glanced right and was shocked at the old man sitting beside him without noticing.

“Sorry about that, gramps,” Rodent said while sitting on the far left side of the bench. “Didn’t even hear you come.”

The old man smiled. “Most don’t.”

“Ha.” Rodent stared off ahead. “Maybe it’s us who need the hearing aids.”

“I’ve found those don’t help much either.”

“Hm.” Rodent glanced around, not seeing where the old man could have come from… no impressions in the grass… no dirt or marks on the cane resting beside the old man. “So… what are you doing out here so late?”

“Same reason as you, I’d imagine.”

“Oh?” Rodent returned. “Drumming up a list of stuff you wanna do?”

“Want to? No.” The old man stared forward at the calm, distant waves. “I’d rather things be as they are.” He sighed wearily. “But a mistake was made a long time ago. And now… I must correct it the best I can.”

Rodent looked at him. “Who screwed up?”

“Heh-eh. Hm.” The old man chuckled. “So that’s the important part, is it?”

Rodent blinked, head shaking. “No. You’re right.”

“Mhm.” The old man glanced at Rodent’s opened notebook. “Your list is rather barren.”

Rodent stared at it as well. “Yeah. It is.”

“You don’t have any desires?”

Rodent breathed heavily. “It’s not that… I don’t have any. It’s just… I dunno.” He glanced up at the greying sky. “I lived my life thoughtlessly. Tomorrow was never supposed to come. And because of that, I… never really wanted for anything.”

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The old man’s head shook. “That’s not true.”

Rodent blinked. “It’s… not?”

The old man smiled.

Rodent took a breath and thought about it. His eyes lowered from the sky to the sea. “I guess… I always wanted whatever my friends wanted.” His shoulders lowered, as did his spirit and soul. “But they’re not here anymore. And I have what they wanted most.”

“In a way,” the old man spoke and chuckled, “that is true!”

Rodent smiled cheekily and looked at the old man with relaxed and narrowed eyes. “Mister. You seem to know my dead friends better than I do.”

The old man laughed, which should have irritated Rodent, but instead, it only calmed him. In seconds, he laughed exactly as the old man did, two oddballs on a bench late in the day.

Once they were done, they looked at the darkening sea together.

“Who are you, old man?” Rodent asked

The old man smiled. “That’s the important part?”

Rodent again lost his breath and his words, so lost and confused. It seemed like he was close to the light, but it advanced away with every step he took.

He was holding on too tight, trying too hard, so he lost his next breath by choosing to exhale it, which he did for as long as he could, and then leaving his lungs empty for as long as they could handle it.

A semblance of peace washed upon him.

“How come you’re listening to me, old man?”

“How come you always listen to others?”

Rodent didn’t answer.

Instead, he stared out at the water, watching the waves rise and crash and hearing the sounds that faintly reached his ears. He let nature into his soul as he enjoyed this moment with this strange old man. And then he trusted himself to be cracked open—to speak his truth.

“I still don’t want for anything.”

“You want for plenty!” The old man chortled, tapping Rodent’s forehead. “You just haven’t realized it. Or think it’s possible.”

Rodent relented. “Most of what I would want isn’t possible.”

“Perhaps!” the old man cheerfully agreed. “But should that stop you from chasing after what is possible?”

Rodent was conflicted.

“I can prove it, if you like.” The old man turned his head to Rodent. “You’d also be helping me.”

“Yeah?” Rodent fully relaxed and wore his normal open smile. “How’s that?”

“Hehehe! Well, the process will be dangerous and hard… though at the same time… it will grant your every desire.” The old man looked at Rodent’s chest—where his heart would be. “But you must not change. No matter what you encounter… you can not lose the spark that allows your heart to be an engine.”

The old man then gazed into Rodent’s confused eyes. “There are others I could pick for this… those who would be better suited for such a mission… and though logic demands that I should pick them… my naive heart has settled on you.”

Rodent blinked. “J-Just… w-what do you have planned, old man?”

“Nothing at the moment.” The old man faced forward. “Only that I’m willing to place a bet upon you.”

“And just what is this bet?”

The old man’s hand raised and opened. “Your ring. Let me see it..”

Rodent shook. “M-My ring. But…”

“You said you wanted for nothing, correct?” said the old man. “Why, then, the difficulty over some ring?”

Rodent flared with a stroke of anger. “It’s not some ring.”

The old man sagely nodded. “Precisely.”

Rodent felt ill. He looked down at his hand and at the ring—looking away at once with eyes that squeezed tight. He drew long, hard breaths before bringing his other hand toward it… touching the smooth metal… shaking as he started to pull it off.

It reached his knuckle before Rodent stopped. “You… won’t take it from me, right?”

“So what if I did? Can’t chase after an old man who has a walking stick?” The old man bent to the side and then handed Rodent his cane. “Here. This is valuable to me. Take it.”

Rodent hesitantly took it, blinking, as he had never felt something like it before. It was heavier than it appeared, and the weight dispersal differed from what he expected. Looking it over to find the material he did not recognize, he saw the old man’s hand closing and opening, waiting.

Rodent rested the rod on the ground and returned to wrestling with his ring, not knowing the last time he took it off—if he had ever removed it at all.

With a few more struggling twists, it slid off and felt like an immense weight had been lifted from his soul.

He suddenly felt empty. Empty. Hollow and barren.

It was a terrible feeling.

And just like that, he quickly handed it to the man, for if he had done it any slower, he would not have been able to do it at all.

“Hmph! This should do the trick!” The old man bounced the ring in his palm with eyes that were closed, as if he was feeling and searching for something—coming to hum after finding what he was looking for.

His eyes reopened. “I have a question for you, Rodent. A single one.”

Rodent, sick, took shallow breaths. “Y-Yeah?”

“Could you tell me what Heaven looks like?”

The question blew Rodent’s face back, and he was even more shocked to realize that he had never given the old man his name.

Before he could even begin to voice one of his many shocks, the old man tossed the ring over his shoulder, causing Rodent to shoot upward and chase after the ring, which struck the ground behind and rolled down the descent of the dirt trail.

Rodent nearly stumbled chasing after it, bent over as the ground flattened and a puddle appeared ahead. The ring rolled and dipped into it—disappearing from sight. The man lost his heart as he fished into the puddle for it… his arm disappeared into it… as did his leg as he stepped into the puddle… all of him gone in the second, without a splash.

Meanwhile, the old man sat at the bench, cackling at the sea, now without his cane… and seeming pleased about it.