Charles Bernard

Over time, he was able to stay downstairs and watch people board the trains. But every so often, the train's warning beeps would remind him of his accident, and he would run back up the stairs to safety. On one such occasion, towards the end of August, he was so focused on putting one foot in front of the other on the stairs that he accidentally ran into a little boy. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!" Charles said, a little out of breath from his sprint.

The boy, who looked to be about six, was crying.

"Oh no! Please, please, don't cry. Are you hurt?" Charles asked.

"I...lost...my...car," he managed to sputter through his tears.

"Where was the last place you saw it?" Charles asked. The boy shrugged.

Charles looked around, and spotted something red lying on the ground, hidden under a piece of trash. An idea occurred to him.

When the boy was looking in the other direction, Charles reached down and snatched up the red object. It was a red racecar; Charles hid it up his sleeve. The boy looked back at Charles.

"Hey, can you hear that?" Charles asked, pointing to a corner behind the boy.

"What?" the boy asked, turning around.

"Hm, I think you need to get your ears checked," Charles said, leaning in to look at the boy's ear. "Oh, I think I found your problem. No wonder, how can you hear anything with this in your ear?" he asked, pulling the car from behind the boy's right ear.

The boy broke into a smile, giggling. "How did you do that?"

"Magic," Charles replied, with a wink.

"Thank you!" the boy yelled over his shoulder as he ran back to his parents.

Charles smiled and sighed. At least I was able to cheer him up. As he began his descent back down the stairs, he heard the boy call out to him.

"Wait Mister! Wait!" he shouted, running towards Charles. "My mommy told me to give this to you," he said shyly, handing Charles five dollars. Then he ran off before Charles had a chance to respond.

"Charles! Are you ok?" Jean asked, coming up the stairs. "Do you want me to play you a song?"

"Jean, I think I found my gimmick," Charles said, smiling as he held up his money.

Charles spent the next four months perfecting his act. The more confident Charles became, the more people he was able to attract. And the more people he attracted, the more money he made, and the happier he became. By the time New Years rolled around, he and Jean had enough money to splurge on a handle of Jack Daniels.

On New Years Eve, they found the warmest corner of the metro. Just before the clock struck twelve, they opened the whisky for a toast.

"Jean."

"Yes?"

"In a weird way, this has been the best year of my life," Charles said. "I'm glad we met."

"I know what you mean," Jean said. Then he poured whisky into two cups and handed one to Charles. "To new beginnings my friend!"

"To new beginnings. Cheers."

End (most likely, I had an alternate ending in mind but I think I like this one more)