The image searched for its real home, its right place, and came to rest in a clump of bushes near the intersection of Liggett and Presidio.
It clung to its old life, shivering, like it had been given up for dead.
True, it was only a beer can, thrown out of the window of a passing car by a careless human, but it too could have feelings.
The landing was soft, so there was a chance, however remote, of enjoying new life in an invigoratingly strange environment.
That there are no accidents in divine mind is some consolation.
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