““His strides are the only evidence he exists, and so he wanders, lost in a city that he has always called home. Our creased hides and limp tongues attract neither fashionable eye nor futile envy, and we no longer feel the burden of his entire weight, though his heart is heavier than it was. Sometimes we stop, and he looks with longing at the stars overhead. We remain on the ground. We have no concept of up, for out reality lies below. It is how life works. This too shall pass.””
