His day ended much as it began, nothing happening. He wanted something to happen if only to break the eternal monotony. Yes, people came and went outside his window but that hardly counted as something happening. If one had taken flight, that would be something. If one instantly vaporized, that would be something. If the apartment building across the street collapsed that would most certainly be something. But, of course, none of those things occurred. Nothing happened. When he put the gun to his temple and the lady outside his window saw and screamed, that was something. So he put the toy gun back on the table and went to make dinner.