The evening sky had an odd hue, a mix of soft orange and purple, like the fading colors of a dream. The air was cooler than it had been in days, and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves along the sidewalks. Ryan and Mia walked side by side, their footsteps muffled on the worn path of the city park, which was quieter than usual. The usual buzz of activity seemed subdued, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Ryan's gaze lingered on the sky for a moment. "Feels like the air's got a strange taste to it tonight," he said, half to himself.
Mia looked up, a slight frown crossing her face, but she didn't say anything. She was busy scrolling through her phone, her finger swiping aimlessly across the screen. "Maybe it's the weather," she said after a moment. "I saw something about a weird solar flare hitting Earth recently. Probably nothing, though."
Ryan nodded but didn't entirely believe it. There was something else in the air, something deeper than just a weather anomaly. It wasn't tangible, but it felt almost… off.
They continued walking through the park, occasionally pausing to look at a stray dog or an old couple sitting on a bench, chatting softly. A few families were out enjoying the evening, and a couple joggers passed them by. Everything looked normal, but it felt like the world was just one step away from something.
---
By the time they made their way to the bustling city streets, the familiar city lights had begun to flicker on, casting long shadows across the sidewalks. The sound of electric vehicles humming along the roads mixed with the chatter of pedestrians. The typical background noise of the city—a mixture of people laughing, arguing, and talking on their phones—was there, but it felt quieter tonight. The voices felt like they were coming from somewhere distant.
They crossed the street, heading toward a nearby café that Mia had been wanting to try. As they reached the intersection, Ryan's eyes caught something familiar: the old man standing at the corner. He was positioned near the crosswalk, a regular sight at nearly every red light.
The man was a fixture in the city, though no one knew his name. He was blind, dressed in worn, faded clothes, his hands clasped together as if waiting for something—or maybe just for someone to acknowledge him. He never asked for anything, never made any gestures for spare change. He simply stood there, eyes closed, unmoving, like an ever-present shadow in the city's hustle.
Ryan noticed the same people walking past him without a second glance, as they always did. A few might toss him a coin, but it was rare for anyone to stop. Mia noticed him too, but her gaze didn't linger, her thoughts clearly already elsewhere.
"That guy's always here, isn't he?" Ryan said quietly.
"Yeah, always," Mia replied, eyes on her phone. "Wonder what he's doing out here every night."
Ryan couldn't shake the feeling that the old man was more than just another figure on the street. There was something about the way he stood there, so still, so… unchanging. It made him wonder if the city had somehow become his world, his only constant.
As they walked past, the man's head tilted slightly, as if sensing their presence. Ryan's heart skipped a beat, but the man didn't move, didn't speak. His face remained expressionless, a blank mask of experience, as if he had seen it all and no longer had any expectation of response.
"Let's grab a coffee," Mia said, tugging him out of his thoughts.
Ryan nodded, glancing back at the man one last time before following Mia into the café.
---
Inside, the café was warm, the hum of the espresso machine and quiet clinking of cups filling the air. They ordered their usual—Ryan a black coffee, Mia a latte—and sat by the window, watching the world continue on outside. Through the glass, the streets seemed almost timeless, as if the world had moved but somehow stood still.
They were talking about weekend plans when the TV on the wall flickered on, interrupting their conversation. The broadcast was brief, just a glimpse of a news anchor with a pale expression, and the words flashed across the screen: "Breaking News: Global Crisis. Urgent message from the President. Tune in for details."
Mia let out a quiet sigh, barely glancing at the screen before reaching for the remote. "Not again," she muttered, turning it off with a quick click. "I'm not in the mood for another 'world ending' speech."
Ryan didn't protest. His eyes wandered back to the streets outside, where the crowd continued to pass, oblivious to the warning. He didn't know why, but the news felt different this time. Even if it was just another speech, another warning, it felt like something more—like the world was finally waking up to a reality it had been avoiding.
But Mia didn't seem to care, and Ryan didn't want to spoil the moment. He glanced at her as she picked up her phone again, tapping away at it idly.
For a brief second, as the city buzzed on, he wondered what it would be like if the world did change, if everything suddenly became too real. But that feeling quickly slipped away. No one seemed to notice anything different. The city, the people, even the blind man—they all seemed like they were caught in a loop, playing out their roles without ever questioning the story they were part of.
And Ryan, for a moment, wasn't sure if he was any different.
---
As they left the café, the world outside felt colder, sharper somehow. The streetlights cast long shadows across the sidewalk, and the distant hum of the city felt muffled, as if the sound was getting lost somewhere far away. Ryan glanced up at the sky again, but the stars were barely visible. It was like the clouds had swallowed them whole.
He wasn't sure why, but the feeling that something was wrong—something was about to shift—lingered, just out of reach. He didn't mention it to Mia. Instead, they walked home, the sound of their footsteps mixing with the hum of the city, unsure that they were heading anywhere at all.