He sat on the train, the daily commute, scarcely awake, staring at the frozen dawn outside. In the window next to him sat someone who reminded him of himself, only looking older, weary. The reflection looked back, their eyes met and for a moment shared a gentle melancholy. Was this it, life, this long day to earn a living in a job that excited no more? Time ticked, time that could be spent doing so much else, something inspirational, perhaps even worthwhile, but what? He returned to the keyboard, looked at the screen, at the Six that had just flowed out of his fingers, and saw the writing on the wall.