The twilight hours danced across. Henry's windshield as he navigated the city streets, the warmth of the setting sun ushering in the promise of the evening ahead.
Work had come and gone, its mundanity fading into the distant past, and the promise of a few drinks at the bar beckoned, a chance to unwind and leave the tedium of the day behind.
Henry's thoughts, like the streetlights that lined the road, illuminated the recesses of his mind, casting a warm glow on the subject that had so intrigued him. His friend William, his colleague and confidant, had recently begun to display a subtle shift in his demeanor, a marked difference that betrayed the change that had taken place in his life.
William, a man of few words, had been transformed by the enigmatic presence of Dahlia Sinclair. Henry had noticed the small but significant changes, like ripples on the surface of a calm lake, spreading outward to touch all that surrounded him.
