“Hi, yes. I’m calling about how to escape my current life.”

“What seems to be the problem, sir?”

“I hate it. I absolutely can’t stand it. I need you to change it for me.”

“I’m very sorry. Sudden and Complete Life Changes are not included in your insurance plan.”

“What! What!”

“There’s really nothing I can do. Deepest apologies. Good luck with changing your life, sir, and have a nice day.”

CLICK.

He collapsed on the stone steps, staring at the End Call screen, his hopes reduced to ashes by a fifty-three second phone call (minus the thirty-seven minutes he had waited on hold). He wandered around the city in pause mode, as he had made no other plans, thinking he’d be living his Brand-New Life by now. But he was still him, with the same fuckups and hangups, just an old washup really.

He ended up in the art museum because it was free shelter from the rain, had comfortable seats, and was generally empty.

“Well,” he said to the still life, “this has been a cock-up.”

“What’s been a cock-up?”

He jumped and dropped his phone. The screen cracked rather audibly against the tiled floor, and he gave up on the idea of eye contact to just stare at his splintered phone with despondent acceptance.

“My life is a cock-up.”

“Your entire life? All of it?”

The stranger sat down next to him, quite uninvited. He smelled of old leather and the edges of their shoes touched, the stranger’s boot to his tattered sneaker.

“Yes, all of it. And my insurance doesn’t cover Big Life Changes, so I’m stuck.”

“Mm, insurance isn’t what it used to be,” the stranger said.

He had a strange accent, like he was speaking around a straw of hay in his mouth.

“So, Big Life Changes are out, what about Small ones?” he asked.

“Insurance doesn’t cover that either.”

“’m not surprised, but I was asking: could you make some Small changes?”

He picked up his phone and decided he’d had enough of this bowl of fruit.

“Don’t patronize me.”

He found another painting to sit at, one at the complete other end of the museum, and quickly decided that landscapes were worse than the still lifes. Landscapes just seemed to remind him of all the places he’d never been and would likely never go.

“This is pathetic,” he whispered, hoping no well-meaning but oblivious strangers heard him and decided to offer unasked for advice.

“I didn’t mean you were pathetic,” the stranger said.

No such luck.

The stranger didn’t sit down this time, just stood behind him, rocking back and forth in creaky leather shoes.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I guess you weren’t looking for some advice.”

“Not right now, no thanks.”

The stranger coughed awkwardly, “Right, well, maybe I could offer something else?”

“What.”

“I believe in you.”

He spun around, mouth opened to either say ‘thank you’ or ‘fuck you’ (he wasn’t sure), but the sight before him stoppered his words. The stranger was no well-meaning menace, not really, he was just a man in worn leathers, wringing his worn hands, staring at the polished floor with abashment.

He made a little incoherent noise, hoping that was a sufficient enough reply.

“Just thought you could use some encouragement,” the stranger said, then peeked up at him to judge his expression. Apparently finding it non-violent enough, he came a little closer and stage-whispered, “From one fuckup to another, I just wanted to say: you can do this. You can survive this.”

He turned away from the stranger, the words a tad too kind to really handle with eye contact, and studied his hands.

“I can’t think of anything else to do. It’s like my hands are tied. Everything I try, I just…it’s like I’m stuck in a hole (that’s filled with shit), and every time I think I find a way to pull myself out, I end up deeper. Trapped.”

The stranger’s shoes squeaked against the floor as he closed the distance between them.

“Then maybe you could use a hand up.”

The stranger stuck out a hand. He contemplated it, thought what the hell, and chose to take it.

It was the first Small change. The first one of many, in fact, that they would make during a long, fulfilling, and ever-changing life together.