Mel sat on the steps of his apartment building, watching the world go by. He had been out here for the last three hours, and hadn't brought his phone, a book, not even a magazine. He just wanted to watch the people, the traffic, take in the sun and the light before the night fell.

As he sat there, people would go by. Some paid him no attention at all, some a little, some much more than others. He had several people stop and ask him about his situation. He'd let them ask, then he'd go into his worn-out story about being sick and getting involved in a research experiment and his head ending up on this much-younger body was the end result. They'd then ask how old he was, or at least most did?

"Which part?" He'd ask. "The head or the rest?"

He'd then smile, tell them he was seventy-nine, but the rest of him was twenty-three. Yes, it was a woman's body, he was more than aware. No, it wasn't a buffet, you didn't get to chose, and no, there wasn't another option unless you count death, and he was there to avoid that.

He'd then finish up and they'd normally be on their way. The rest of the time he'd just watch, looking at the people, wondering what they were doing, what their stories were, betting that many had more interesting stories than his. Well, he was constantly telling the ONE interesting story, but that was really all he had.

As evening started to recede into nightfall, he got up, stretched slightly, and walked inside, back up the steps, and back to his apartment, another day done.