He always walked with his head down and his hands in his empty pockets. Eye contact was something other people did, and he was more familiar with the different styles of shoes people wore than the different features they could have.
If you were to ask him why he decided to look up that day he wouldn’t be able to answer. But he did, and he saw the purple flower growing from the crack two storeys above his head, surviving against all the odds somewhere it shouldn’t be.
He kept his head up. Smiled at the next person he saw.
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