He spends his free time rifling through his belongings. Those tangiable items that make him feel connected to something grounded and real. It passes the time and his thoughts become mechanical. He removes his baseball hat to scrath his head and clears his throat. One saw, a flat head, drill, sander... Methodically rearranged piles of meaningless meaning to a man who looks more like a little boy sitting on the carpet with wrapping around him Christmas morning. He lifts up his shirt and scrathes his chest trying to ignore the photo album on his roll away red toolbox. Careful not to disturb it's contents. If opened it would reveal a pretty little girl smiling in her best party dress. It would show him a life he choose to walk away from and the painful smile would cross his face and today, like tomorrow, it would be too much for his sleepless eyes to handle. One drill bit, a screwdriver, a grinder, and a box of nails. Left to right and side by side on well thought out stacks in the garage. The door opens and she peeks her head out with a smile. She joins him and sits as he goes through the ritual. Two bodies in a cold messy garage. He tilts his head and gives her his best goofy grin and sticks put his tongue. She laughs and plays with the back of his hair. She reachs out and places her hand gently on the photo album and stands still. "maybe you should go see your daughter today?" She says as the bright blue of his eyes change. She points to his phone on his hip and smiles. Standing next to him as he makes the call that's most days harder then breathing. One screwdriver, one paint roller, one hammer. Side by side and left to right... One man and one silly little girl stand.