The Light of Gray.

A gray autumn day. A large gray city full of gray people. Each of them follows their own gray path, enclosed in a glass coffin. Its transparent walls separate them from the world. They consider this world evil and cruel – and in fact, they are right. Their only defense is the escape into their transparent sarcophagi. They don't know that they create the world. They don't believe they can change anything. They lack the strength to change themselves, and once they wanted to change the world. They don't understand that it was pointless anyway, because the world is theirs, and they must change themselves, and then the world will be better. So they wander along their gray path, building more and more protective layers.

But somewhere there is light. Somewhere the world is colorful. A boy walking down the middle of the street can know this. He is not surrounded by glass. He feels what is happening. In immense pain, he passes the glass walls surrounding people. Cars honk as he crosses the street, just as people shout when he crosses their path. Tears flow from his eyes, burning holes as they fall to the ground. Finally, the weight overwhelms him. He collapses in the middle of the street. He tries to get up, but only manages to kneel. No one sees that he needs help. No one wants to see it. The boy begins to scream; louder and louder; the sound begins to vibrate. Pressure surrounds the boy, throwing cars that get too close.

At one point, the pressure becomes so immense that it crushes all structures, even buildings begin to shatter. All the glass has long since been scattered across the street. The last of the human shields crumble. They are crushed, each subsequent layer possessing greater destructive power than the last. The more a person has, the finer the glass of his own coffin will fragment him. And their remains are pushed far away from the boy by the sound of pain.

Finally, after a while, the sound fades. The sky slowly clears. The streets are empty. The city is destroyed. "There is not a stone upon a stone that hasn't been knocked down." The boy stands and smiles. He sees other children approaching him from all sides. Some are carrying injured adults, parents, or older siblings. They all gather around one blond, dirty boy and embrace in one big hug. Some of the wounded slowly recover, others fade, but no one is alone.

Everyone who can, cries, and from each tear, a little plant grows. Walls are overgrown with greenery. Steel poles turn into tree trunks. Glass fragments become seeds of grass, which grows tall. The children begin to laugh, sit down on the grass, and this one boy sits in the middle of the clearing, bathing in the sunlight, revealed by the last dissipating gray cloud.