Today, I went home earlier than usual. For some reason, I finished my work faster. I walked out of the building without rushing—for the first time in who knows how many weeks. The sky wasn't fully dark yet. The sun still hung low on the horizon, casting an orange hue over the tall buildings.
I bought food from a street vendor. Its aroma was simple, warm, and real—unlike office food that always tastes like routine. I sat on an old bench near the pedestrian bridge, chewing slowly while watching the sunset. It felt strange, but also peaceful.
It was the first time I could watch the sunset without being in a hurry.
While sitting there, I saw people still walking fast, cars roaring, lights flashing one after another. But me... I stopped. Maybe, sometimes, we really do need to stop. To make space in a mind that's too full. Not to escape, but to remember that the world can be quiet too—if we let it.
On my way home, the night fell slowly. City lights flickered on one by one. In front of my house, I looked at the moon for a moment before going inside. No one welcomed me, as usual. But tonight, for some reason, it felt a little lighter. I studied for a while, like always, even though my brain was half frozen from exhaustion.
Then I went to sleep.
Or tried to.
Just as my eyes were about to fully close—
~GGGRRGRRMMRRR.
A deep, heavy sound came from somewhere. Like... a rumble far beneath the ground.
My eyes opened halfway.
I stared at the open window, its curtain swaying softly in the night breeze.
Maybe just the wind.
I got up briefly, closed the window with slow movements, and went back to bed. As my back touched the mattress, the sound was gone. But something lingered in the air—something I couldn't quite describe.
The next morning, sunlight slipped through the cracks in the still-drawn curtains. I opened my eyes, and this time... I smiled.
A day off.
No deadlines. No emails. No notifications that make my heart nearly jump out of my chest.
I brushed my teeth while humming a random song. Cold water on my face felt like rebirth. Today, I decided to go out alone.
I visited a park I usually only passed by. Watched the sea from afar, sat on a bench surrounded by pigeons. No plans. No obligations. Just me and a city that, for once, wasn't in a hurry.
And sometimes, to feel alive, all we need is to sit in a quiet place, let the wind speak, and let the weight fall from our shoulders for a while. The world can wait.
And that's when I saw him.
A man?—wearing a long, dark cloak, standing still beneath an old tree. His face was hidden. His steps were light, nearly soundless.
He slowly approached me.
Without saying a single word, he handed me a worn-out book.
I looked at him, confused, then finally reached out and took it.
The moment I touched it, the man—whoever he was—turned and walked away. Disappearing into the crowd.
I looked down at the book.
"What is this...?"