Finding Passion In The Reflections of Life’s Storms

The elderly man shuffles down a deserted street, fatigue weighing on his slumped shoulders. The broom he pushes falls without ceremony to the ground as he grabs to his hat. Gusting wind sends old paper wrappers and an empty can clanking down the open street before it. Cigarette butts litter the sidewalk, mixed with confetti and slowly dying balloons.

The dampness from a recent rain brings up the musty smell of wet cardboard into the air, rising from the nearby alleyway clogged with old boxes and burdened with evidence of population overload.