Observed From the Train
He swaggered out of the library and disdainfully cast the papers he was carrying up and away. For a brief moment they flashed and spun in the sunlight before falling into shadow. He did not look back, nor make eye contact with those who wondered at his act of flagrant littering. He just kept waking. And, when he was out of the crowd, wiped a tear from his eye.
A tiny, intentional community of writers and people who really like frogs.