#36

A man in ankle-high brown boots clicking on rough grey concrete. Blonde hair resting deliberately, neatly on his head, intentional. 12 buttons ascend his shirt, all partnered but one. Left hand gingerly clutching a small bouquet of white flowers wrapped in crinkly plastic. A vigil to its sacrifice. Holding them slightly away from himself, holding them perfectly upright, rigidly, protecting this small severed bundle from the world around it as the roar of vehicles racing to and fro provide the soundtrack.