Every Tuesday, he empties the bin. They say nobody ever detects what takes place on this side of the world, but he's been awake for quite some time to know that the counts are multiplying. Last Tuesday, a redheaded teen sauntered into the bright blue condo across the street. She squealed and beamed with delight at the sight of the pearly set of whites standing behind the screendoor. You could hear her heart leap into her throat. The same polished sets that thrilled the blondie three weeks ago. 

It was a rainy Tuesday and a beautiful stranger lacked a warm blanket. That was all it took for her pretty face to be unforgotten just like the sudden flash of a lightning strike.

And the Tuesday after, the one before last week, a car broke down and a brunette needed a spare tyre.

"I have one. Come right in."  The condo out front just happened to have one in stock.

They've been coming in numbers, disappearing within minutes. As the memories survive another pending breath, he wonders if his time might eventually be here -- or not. After all, he's always been an old rugged maniac. Who would ever believe his words?