I was dying of an incurable disease, but had spirt and time left. I was in the attendance of a family friend’s party. His house was popular for gathering, he owned an indoor pool. Eavesdropping on the guests, I learned that this man, Brian, stored a well-guarded safe in his house, and that in this safe was a document explaining the truth behind life.
I spied relentlessly on him for weeks; I needed to learn the location of the safe, as well as it’s combination. Observing his peculiar patterns for days, I discovered the combination was 4-8-7-1-3, a pointer to a passage in his favorite literary work. Armed with the combination, the only task left was to pinpoint the location of the safe. I decided the right approach was to break silently into his house during the quietest hours of night, and steal the universal truth as soon as I found the safe.
At the top flight of stairs, and directly off the landing was a door with a numeric pad: this had to be it. I was so close to learning the universal truth before I passed. I reached up and grabbed the door nob while my finger slowly descended to enter the code. As I touched the knob, I felt it turn against my grip: Brian was in the room, studying the truth, and he was about to leave and discover me. I ran.
I ran down the stairs, and out of the house. I never returned to steal the truth. Instead I went running with friends, exploring Boston, and cared for a sick friend. I saw Brian at his next party; off-handedly mentioned 48713, put my arm on his shoulder and walked off.
