I was on the way to the hair-dresser.
I was in a once-industrial-zone, transformed – still transforming, really – into upscale condos, offices and restaurants. One building seems abandoned, another mid-construction, and another is post-reno and ready for an update.
It was a grey day.
A bunch of movie trucks were on one side of the avenue, using all the parking spots. I love the movies, so I couldn’t, wouldn’t really, complain.
And, there I am, in the midst of this concrete chaos, parked a few blocks from the salon, walking along this alienating stretch of street, when something catches my eye. A small detail in the midst of large-scale everything – a bit of colour, something pretty, something sweet. Tiny, purple flowers draped over the edge of a concrete wall.
A sign of life.