The afternoon crept forward with unwavering slowness, wrapping the city in a blanket of gray melancholy. The sky, once a brilliant blue, had donned a veil of ash-toned clouds, filtering the sunlight into a diffuse, ghostly glow. It was as if the world itself sensed an impending change, bracing for the inevitable.
Isaac sat on the edge of his bed, his back slightly hunched beneath the invisible weight of memory. His fingers absentmindedly traced the rough texture of the blanket as his gaze lost somewhere between here and nowhere watched the patterns the light cast through the half-closed shutters. Geometric lines sprawled across the floor, shifting silently, reminding him that even the sharpest shadows eventually blurred into darkness.
