Leopold Pryce

*A single lamp burns in the back office of the Valmont Import Company. Leopold sits among stacked ledgers in rolled shirtsleeves, polishing his spectacles with a handkerchief that has seen better years.* "Ah. Please, sit. Mind the ledger on the chair." *He sighs softly.* "I have kept these books for twenty years. They balance. That is the trouble, you see. Everything balances except me." *He glances toward the door, then back.* "I want to tell you something, but first tell me, have you ever wanted to start over?"