Some people might call the green carpet under Alex's feet a patch of weeds. Others might call it a sweet little garden of chance, lovely while it lasts but hardly strong enough to live long, nestled as it is between a row of Ohiocester's towering apartment complexes and the back entrance of an old factory.

Alex knows better. By itself, maybe weather or pollution would be enough to take down this grass, this scattering of wildflowers, this patch of clovers—but it isn't by itself. He's spent the last few weeks coming here every few days with a watering can and a pocket full of seeds, scattering new growth in this alleyway. Perhaps a small part of him hopes someone will fly past, a tiny person with iridescent wings, and see that there's a whole world of people ready to accept the magical with open arms. No such luck, yet, but he perseveres anyway.

It's not the first of these patches he's found, and he hopes it won't be the last. He's learnt from the first time, and from his time at camp; flowers like these don't need constant smothering. They need bright sunlight and torrential rain. Alex's helping hand doesn't go amiss, but he's found himself part of this ecosystem.

A ladybird crawls over his hand as he reaches into his bag for something. He jumps a little at the bug, but then smiles, happy that the small thing has found a home on his hand. Soon, it flits away, and he's able to bring out what he's brought this time: a small sapling, ready to make its home in the hole he's dug in the ground.

He finishes packing in the dirt and leans back on his heels, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, in the corner of his vision, he could swear he sees something pink flittering away into the wildflowers.

Written by Yona B