I leave the house for the first time in two days.
Walking along the street, my eyes are drawn to every green tendril and tiny,
perfect leaf that has pushed its way up through cracks in the concrete slabs — stained
by the foulings of every neighbourhood dog; scarred by the memory of countless
spat-out wads of gum; scattered with cubes of glass from a smashed-in car
window, the car itself long since moved on...
Life, against all the odds. This is grace.
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