It was never anticipated. In slow motion that only lasted a few seconds, his arms shot up into the orange tinted sky and he was flipped in a perfect circle until he landed on his bottom with a dull thud. Then came the cries. In the bubble of time, the echoes of his cries were not piercing. Instead I heard soft whimpers, and then progressive sobs dribble out of his small mouth, that was wrinkled into a frown. My heart broke as I idiotically stared at the little boy whose nose was dripping with snot, soft wavy hair that was matted with leaves, and whose bitable cheeks were blotted red as a cherry. The boy in the purple jumpsuit.