On August 3, 2057, Mr. Wheeler walked up to the Assist Co. vending machine. He squinted at the rows of buttons. He didn't have a dime. But this machine didn't take money anyway. He pressed , wondering if finally he would get what he really wanted. He used to have choices, but now it seemed he only had one.

The machine whirred, stirred to life. Mr. Wheeler turned to look up and down the sidewalk. People passed without glancing his way. So many people, but he felt so alone. No wife, no children. Not that he was prevented, but he just chose a different path. Others chose involvement, commitments. He had chosen a life of detachment.

A series of buttons lined the front of the stainless steel and glass machine, each adjacent to a question. The directions said he must answer all questions in order. The questions seemed silly, like
and Mr. Wheeler shrugged his shoulders and pressed the buttons for "strawberry" and "puppy." There were another dozen or so questions of the same inane sort, and then he pressed .

The machine purred, clanked, and digested the information. Then it issued a small tablet wrapped in foil through a small dispenser, and a light announced, Mr. Wheeler sighed, put the little tablet in his pocket, and walked away from the machine two steps.

Just then, a small bell tinkled in the distance. A man on a three-wheeled bicycle pulled up beside him. He had a large white box attached to the back that had colorful stickers. ICE CREAM! The ice cream man stopped beside Mr. Wheeler. He reached into the box and handed Mr. Wheeler a paper wrapped cone then pedaled on his way.

Mr. Wheeler's hand shook, but he managed to take off the wrapper and take a little nibble. Oh, sweet strawberries! But the pink ball of ice cream broke away from the cone and landed with a plop at his feet. Mr. Wheeler closed his eyes. He remembered his foil wrapped tablet and fished it from his pocket. As he opened his eyes to unwrap the little packet, he looked down at the pink splat of melting ice cream. My life, he thought, just a mess.

Suddenly he heard the scrabble of hard toenails and saw a small yellow dog come bounding up the sidewalk. The pup stopped at the ice cream puddle and started to lick. Mr. Wheeler couldn't help but laugh. What he had thought of as his life, a mess of spilt milk, was loved by a little dog! He took the unwrapped tablet and stepped back to the vending machine. He found a small receptacle that read RETURNS HERE and placed the tablet in the tray.