At the edge of the city, there is a statue facing inward. It has been here for ages, but no one knows how long. It is a just a man sitting atop a stone base. The base is unremarkable, simply a block of granite, with no artistic molding, no inscription, and no indention to mark the place of any long lost name plate.

The sitting man is supposedly meant to be the focus of attention, yet is rather uninspiring. He simply sits on the block with his knees pulled up, and his arms hanging over them lazily. His clothing is plain; only a shirt, pants, and shoes. His hair is short and neatly kept. His features are not, in the traditional sense, handsome, nor are they ugly. The artist obviously pained to make his form as lifelike as possible, and through time most of the detail has held. But with all of this, there is still no indication of who he was.

Most people who pass by would never notice the statue, or even remember that it was there except for one thing.

The man is smiling.

His smile is what catches people’s attention. He is not smiling at anything in particular. He does not face directly at any building, or down a street. He just smiles at the city. He sits for eternity, watching the city grow and change, and he smiles.

As I passed by one day, I looked up. He saw me, and he smiled. If you come to my city, come see the man, maybe he will smile at you.

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