Fresh flowers secured in bundles, she set out for the market with hopes of a good day. The little money she made from the sale of the flowers she had grown would go to rent for her rundown flat. Although subsidized by the government, it was all she could afford.

Ling hadn’t gone very far before chocking on the foul air. Stopping for a moment she donned her mask. She hated wearing it almost as much as she detested the smog. If only she could escape the concrete canyons walled with endless rows of tall buildings. If only she could sell enough flowers.

The one bright spot on her commute was a wall covered with a bright colorful mural of flowers and dragons. It almost made her forget the city.

Flowers displayed, she called out to customers clamoring for a variety of goods available at the market. At the end of the day she rode home, her basket empty, her money bag full of precious cash and coins; enough to keep her dreams alive.