The world can be beautiful.

	Beauty can be found in everything. I sit now on the third floor of the mathematics department for my college, in a cramped side hall with the lights turned off, and part of the ceiling missing. Tables, a chair, and a random assortment of supplies look to either be ready for storage or the trash heap, and the only light is coming from a single window at the end which shows the roof.
	When put like this, it may not seem like a picnic spot but one must believe me, this is a little slice of heaven that has been perfectly hidden away from most. The hall seems as if it’s fighting to exist, that the universe itself did not want this hallway to be a part of the world! This small crack in the world that everything is trying to erase, and here I now find myself eating lunch and looking out the window.
	“Now the view must be something amazing then no?” you may be asking yourself, dear reader, how could she be gushing and enraptured over such a space? I shall try and explain as best as a woman with no skills can, there is a charm and a delight to everything but one must look for it. Let me describe the view as I see it now:
	The roof is large and mostly flat, with divisions about every meter presumably when the construction crew was laying down the roofing. The roof itself is white, not a pure blinding white (although it is when you first see it or when being in the shade,) but a white with some yellow in it, probably a cream or an eggshell white. The level of whiteness also shifts depending on where in the roof you are looking, closer to the gutters and storm drains you get a more pronounced yellowing, further away, and a lack thereof. There is standing water on the roof, which I imagine from the gutters doing a job and having water rushing to one point every time it rains. In doing so it slowly eroded just a tiny amount every time it rained, so now where there is shade from the higher floors and the previous streams there are puddles. Finally, in those pools of water, you can see reflections and images of the palm trees that stand in front of the building. Now the tops of the trees are trapped in these mirror worlds for a limited time, as the water glimmers and dances with the breeze, slowly dissipating as Mother Nature collects her tears one by one. But for a moment they are allowed to be free, show the world as it almost is, move, and affect it even if by the tiniest of amounts.
	This is a more clinical approach, I am describing factually what is out there but less what is out there! For example, there is life on that roof! It isn’t a barren wasteland as one may suspect. As written, I noticed a tiny, near-microscopic spider, which was a shade of gray that blended into the shadow of the roof. I jumped with joy when I saw this and pressed my face against the window to get a better look, in doing so this scared them and they scampered off. With nose bending and grease smearing against the glass I then noticed a moth, lounging about, gray once more blending in. Hidden in plain sight, you wouldn’t have even seen them but they were. Not long after, a pigeon came swooping in to guzzle some water, rub their face in it, and dash out. A brief moment and one I could have missed, as that dashing gray visitor was a speedy one, yet there they were.
	In the video game community, there are these types of secrets which are called, “Easter eggs.” The name itself is derived from an Easter egg hunt, a type of celebration that is played by family members or communities where they first gather around and paint eggs with sometimes intricate designs, then hide them. It is at this point the hunt begins and participants look for beautifully crafted things placed into the wild for them. In video games, it is much the same where a developer hides a secret, and the players can find wonderfully made things tucked away in places thought to be secret.
	This non sequitur truly means nothing, breaks pacing, and is tonally in a different style. I only mention it though because on the way to the hallway which shouldn’t exist, to a roof that supports life which should seem inhospitable, there was an Easter egg. In one of the elevators, in the bottom right corner when you’re facing the door to walk out, if you look down there are two tiny ducks. Subatomic ducks, they are that small you must believe, yet they are there. Both translucent and vibrant, yet easily missable, one duck is yellow, the other is blue. One can only imagine how many people have passed them by without noticing them.
	The world can be beautiful.