Jacob Giles had tried many jobs since leaving school but none had managed to maintain his interest. He had worked in a kitchen but couldn’t get on with the ego of the chef. Gardening he’d had no aptitude for, all those Latin names and constant weeding. He’d laboured on building sites and on houses but the work had dried up and he now struggled to make ends meet. Over a period of months, life had become increasingly difficult. Among the crimson bills in the post was a more significant missive. Having no parents and no capital to fall back on, the eviction notice filled him with dread. What was he going to do? Right – need to be practical. He put the contents of his wallet on the table. Enough for a couple more meals maybe at a fast food place. Where was he going to live? He needed more money. There was always his dad’s watch. That was worth a few thousand, and was the only thing of value he still had. Still, it was a depressing prospect. Without that he really had nothing. Nothing to show for thirty years of life. He needed to stop these thoughts – they weren’t helping. He decided to take a walk, get some air.

Outside the atmosphere was heavy with humidity. The heat was stifling. He walked slowly, trying to get his brain to function in the hothouse of the street. Cars seemed to move slowly, like they were struggling to push away the air as they moved. He ducked into a side doorway to shade himself from the sun. His mind was racing, thoughts clamouring for attention like a swarm of flies. Got to get some clarity. Leaning his back against the door, he let his legs collapse and he slid to a despairing heap in the doorway. Was this his future? Is this how people end up homeless and destitute? Someone walked past, half-glanced at him. Was that pity or disgust? What would he think if he could see himself like that woman just did? He sat huddled for a while, paralysed in thought and action. More people passed, seemingly not even seeing him. Was this worse or better? He didn’t know. Some paper fluttered past, advertising a circus in a nearby town.

He must have dozed off, because he was aware that some time had passed. The air was less suffocating and it had cooled slightly. Right. Need to start some serious thinking. What do I need? A place to stay, regular money coming in. How to get one without the other? He started to think through scenarios in his mind. In fact, he was so lost in thought that he nearly missed it. Something, nothing, something? A small piece of plastic, discarded as part of the constant tidal wave of progress. But there was something strange about it. What was it? It was on a keyring. Not that unusual in of itself, but it wasn’t a key. And there was a tag on the ring. It said ‘Destroy After Use’.