There were scratches on a blue wall.

Scratches that cut deep into the concrete.

But these scratches were there on purpose, for they created a pattern.

It slightly resembled a temple with a courtyard and statues.

Or whatever the eyes could see.

No one aimed to cover those scratches on the wall.

They let them linger, even as dust began hanging on the crevices.

In fact, the scratches were kind of beautiful against the bleak blue wall.

And that’s why they remained.

Remained on the naked wall.


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