Upon awakening from sleep, Bologue slowly climbed out of bed. This time, he wasn't in a narrow single bed; he awoke in his own home.
The warmth of his body lingered on the soft quilt. Bologue sat up against the bedhead, light falling through the curtains onto his front, the air carrying a slight chill that made Bologue reflexively pull back into the covers.
He reached out to open the curtains—still the same familiar city, yet with a subtle difference: heavy snow fell like goose feathers, leisurely blanketing the streets in silver-white.
As cars passed by, the pure white snow was trampled into gray-black slush, strands of black interwoven with the silver-white world.
Winter had arrived, covering Oubos with snow.
Witnessing this scene, Bologue's feelings were complex for a moment, filled with nostalgia.
The same city, the same day, yet some things had changed forever. Fortunately, Bologue had walked out of the shadows, with plenty of time to enjoy everything life had to offer.
