31 December 2024
A quiet Sunday evening descended upon the city. Beneath my feet, the wet asphalt shimmered faintly, and above me, a concrete-gray sky loomed. In the deepening twilight, only a few windows glowed with soft, warm yellow light. My hair and clothes felt heavy, saturated with the dampness from the air. The streets were deserted, not a soul in sight. I felt endlessly alone in this autumn city. Yet, despite the all-encompassing melancholy, a gentle warmth spread through me, rising along my spine. In my backpack, I carried a bundle of hot shawarma for dinner.