Randy Jade stood at the edge of the alley, glancing back at the purple dumpster that had been his home for as long as he could remember. The old Nokia phone that made up his head emitted a faint hum as he sighed. He adjusted the worn, denim jacket he wore.

"Well, I guess this is it," he muttered to himself, the familiar tone of his voice echoing slightly in the narrow space.

He turned to see his friend approaching, carrying a box filled with odds and ends that Randy had managed to gather over the years. It wasn’t much, but it was his.