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Just another day. I was heading home after yet another Thursday where, as had become some dumb habit, I stayed late at work. Not that I liked it. Not that I couldn't leave either—no, sometimes I just wondered: what's the point? There wasn't even a cat waiting for me at home. At least here I could pretend I was doing something important. That I wasn’t just a shadow darting through the streets between an office and an apartment with frozen walls.
I walked, my thoughts sluggish in my head, one dragging slower than the other. The streets of Manhattan, damp from the morning rain, reflected the lights, and each streetlamp looked blinding to the eye. For a moment, I even imagined seeing myself from the outside—a 42-year-old man, in a suit that’d been begging for dry cleaning, hunched back, hands in pockets, with that eternal half-asleep look of resignation on his face. Goddammit, how I wanted to break out of this life.
I walked slowly, hands buried in my pockets, drowning in thoughts—when the sky above Manhattan suddenly... shuddered. No, it wasn’t an earthquake. It wasn’t even a feeling—more like... a glitch. Like someone hit "pause" and "rewind" at the same time. I suddenly felt off. One moment—and I was falling. Even though I was standing. The world jolted. Light shattered in front of my eyes like broken glass...