Thursday

There’s a boy, that stands outside my apartment building every morning handing out flyers. He’s the flyer boy. It’s too easy to spot him: he’s thin, he’s (not) young, he doesn’t smile, he mouths words but no sound comes out. He’s poor. He stays within that invisible 1 meter square. At a time like this, everyone is engrossed with frustration (you know, busy) who has time to stick out their hand and reach for that flyer?



Oh my god. He’s still there? Still, no one wants a flyer. Invaluable information. But I turn around and decide to get a flyer. Roses, HKD200. Useless.