Morning came quietly, like it wasn’t sure it was welcome.Grey drifted in and out of shallow half-dreams on the couch, the kind where your body rests but your mind refuses to unclench. Every sound felt amplified: the hum of the refrigerator, pipes ticking behind the walls, a gull crying somewhere beyond the window. The city breathed around him, indifferent and constant, and he lay there staring at the ceiling as if answers might be written into its cracks.They weren’t.What came instead were memories. Not the loud ones—the chases, the blood, the narrow escapes…but the quieter failures. Doors he’d closed because staying meant vulnerability. People he’d left behind because caring too much had felt like a liability. He’d always told himself it was necessary. Survival demanded it.But survival, he was beginning to realize, was a lonely metric.When light finally filtered into the room, pale and hesitant, he sat up. His back ached. His chest felt tight, like something had been pressing th
Last Updated : 2026-01-15
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