Sliding glass doors opened to reveal the outside world. Bright blue sky, rolling green hills, and... car emissions. There was always something. Louis shielded his eyes from the brilliant rays of the sun. It had been two years since his accident. Two long years in a rehabilitation center relearning everything he had learned the 18 years before. The first year was the most difficult. 18 years jammed into the brain is a torture all in its own. The last year was easier, just refresher courses and social interaction simulations. Now, finally, Louis felt like he was being reborn. A new man.

	"OUTTA THE WAY, ASSHOLE." An elderly man shoved past him yelling more obscenities. "Dumbass, standing in the damn doorway..." Louis watched as the crass old man walked away, got in his car, lit a cigarette, and sped off, nearly hitting a few pedestrians on his way out of the jungle of parked cars and traffic signs. Like a switch, the wonder of the world Louis had been feeling melted away. Now, he could remember just how toxic people were. The bright blue sky was tainted with monoxide, the rolling green hills were mounds of moldy trash discarded by the careless, and air was thirty five percent exhaust. The people of the world were killing the planet and not one of them cared about anything other than themselves.

	Louis walked away from the rehab center, hit the sidewalk and started towards his home. Thankfully, it wasn't far. By the first five minutes into the walk, Louis's underutilized muscles were screaming. Louis pushed on anyway, desperate to go home again. He rounded the corner and stopped short. His house was taped shut, a sign reading 'FORECLOSURE' nailed through the oaken door. There was a pile of old mail covered in cobwebs and dust resting on the stoop of his house. Multiple letters warning of the foreclosure, several bills from hospital stays, notices from a bank declaring his lack of funds. Louis stared at the black letters, unable to comprehend what it meant. It took him a few moments before the emotions erupted. He sat on the stoop of his home bawling. He was broke. No home, no money, no family in the area. Louis was truly alone.

	Louis looked around, wiping his eyes. He did have something. He has his pride and dignity. He was not one to sit around in self-pity. First thing first, he needed somewhere to sleep and here was as good as any. He slipped around the back of the house and checked to see if anyone was looking. In a swift, familiar movement, Louis kicked the door and tugged on the door handle. The door disengaged from the jam and swung in. His possessions were all gone. A sign in the floor told him exactly where they went. "Estate sale. Wonder how much I made..." He closed the door behind him and began searching the house for anything left behind. 

	He found an old screwdriver, a bottle of water, and a can of beans that had fallen behind the wall thanks to a hole behind the pantry shelves. He sighed as he popped the can open and looked at his first meal in the outside world. It isn't what he had imagined, but he was alive. And after the accident, he should just be grateful for that.

	Louis went to sleep that night on the hardwood floor, his screwdriver tucked underneath him. His mind drifted back to the thought of car emissions and pollution. Then it turned to a vision of himself, homeless, standing next to a barrel of fire, and for a moment, the warmth of the fire seemed all to real.

	Louis awoke with a jolt, the heat from his dream now felt like lava on his skin. The room was filled with smoke and a fire had broken out in the room. Louis scooped up his screwdriver and bolted out the back door, leaving his home behind to burn.