'Twas a typical Monday that was actually a Tuesday due to some Mayan calendar mishap or something and the Man in Crimson was perched in his usual spot. Adjacent to the high school leaning against the dumpsters behind Walgreens. People have asked him to move before, called the police to arrest him for loitering even going as far as recruiting the hippie artists to give him a lecture about the color wheel and how Christmas is offensive to most people and to ask him to stop being offensive. But he merely shrugged and resumed standing next to the garbage. So three months later the store gets the bright idea to move the dumpster to the back corner of the parking lot, where our mysterious friend now resides nearly full time on Mondays.

Today is not a special day, nor even a day worth identifying as a day, but today is the day in which the black market mogul makes a sale. To a kid with a severe case of Thanatophobia. The transaction is typical. And confidential.