He was broken in a million ways. The small fissures overlapped and underlined the large cracks making him appear patterned. The tessellation was so complex that it was easier to assume the fractures had been created purposefully. That at its center, somehow, was the Fibonacci sequence or the Golden ratio. That it wasn’t a design flaw but instead a Flawed Design.
This, however, assumed that the universe was more than entropy made physical. That in this world the rules were adhered to and more than on exception. But in his experience, the logic which seemed to fuel the cosmos was barely even considered a suggestion. Strictly speaking.
The brokenness was what defined him. It decided his approach to life and served as the precedent all was measured against. Ultimately, it was the only reason he needed to never try again.
So he sat carefully with his fragility. No sharp edges allowed. No sudden movements encouraged. No risks deemed worthy of reward. The glass between him and living was shatter-proof as he opted to watch life happen to others.
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