There’s a crack in the concrete by my feet. A weed has taken hold where life should have failed. A tiny green shoot defies the odds, reaching up and clinging to life. The last rays of the setting sun catch the lone leaf. This poor plant is doomed to a life of hardship, only to wither and die. Whether it dies under a scorching sun or the snows of winter makes no difference. It can’t win, but it doesn’t care. Life doesn’t need to win. Life needs to try.
Peter Cawdron, What We Left Behind (Z is for Zombie, #1)












