It’s hard to find butterflies here, or even flies.

There are bees, though, they’re always hanging around Washington Square Park, buzzing around the sticky sweet juice dripping down your hand from the popsicle you got at the ice-cream stand.

You block out the sound of traffic and listen to the rasta drum beats and smell the weed that’s everywhere now, and the whole time this warm breeze of city filth swirls around you.

In the middle of the biggest city you find a flower ridiculously alive, crawling from a crack in the concrete.

It’s the bravest thing you’ve ever seen.

If you’ve enjoyed any of my work, please consider having a coffee with me.

I’m on a mission to post 1,000 100 word stories! Follow this publication to keep reading them.

I’m experiencing with different writing styles, as long as they all add up to exactly 100 words, and trying a new AI image generator to help keep looking the same around here. I hope that doesn’t steer you away from my words.