Tomorrow I will come home from work and you will ask how was my day. Drawing near and laying my head on your shoulder, I will say one of two things:
1. Just another day.
or
2. I saw a blade of grass extruding its life force through a fissure between an impenetrable concrete wall and the grit of an endless city. I've been reflecting on this and I can't decide whether that fragile shoot was growing towards apotheosis or annihilation.
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