The silence of the frozen world had become Ramses' constant companion. Days—or what felt like days—blurred into one another. The ticking of the clock had become an illusion, a reminder that time had no meaning anymore. But for Ramses, something was shifting. Where the stillness had once been suffocating, it now felt different, like a blank canvas. It was no longer just an emptiness to fear but a space to create, to grow.
His body was beginning to respond to the exercise routines he had forced upon himself. His muscles ached less, his stamina had improved, and for the first time in years, he didn't feel weighed down by lethargy. The mirror reflected subtle changes—a firmer jawline, less puffiness under his eyes, and shoulders that stood straighter. But it wasn't just his physical body that was changing; his mind felt clearer too. He began to notice things he had overlooked before.
Ramses sat on the floor of his living room, a meditation app frozen mid-session on his phone. It didn't matter that the app's soothing voice was forever paused. He had learned enough to guide himself. Closing his eyes, he focused on his breathing. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Each breath anchored him, pulling him away from the doubts that still tried to claw their way back.
His mind drifted to the outside world. He hadn't ventured beyond his apartment in weeks, maybe longer. At first, the thought of stepping outside had been too overwhelming. What was the point of exploring a frozen world? But now, curiosity tugged at him. There had to be more to this than just survival.
Ramses stood and walked to the window. The city lay stretched out before him, as silent and unmoving as ever. Cars were stalled mid-intersection, their drivers frozen in time. Pedestrians dotted the sidewalks, captured mid-stride. Even the pigeons perched on a nearby building seemed like statues. It was eerie, but it also held a strange beauty.
"What am I so afraid of?" Ramses muttered to himself. He grabbed his jacket and stepped out the door.
The World Beyond
The air outside felt cool and crisp against his skin, a stark contrast to the stale atmosphere of his apartment. The streets were hauntingly still. Ramses walked slowly, taking in every detail. A couple sat on a park bench, their faces frozen in laughter. A cyclist hovered mid-turn, their front wheel angled slightly as if they were about to swerve.
He approached a diner on the corner, its neon sign flickering endlessly in a loop. The door was unlocked, and inside, a waitress stood behind the counter, pouring coffee into a cup. The liquid hung in midair, suspended between the pot and the cup. Ramses reached out, his hand brushing the cup lightly. Nothing moved.
For a moment, he felt like an intruder in someone else's life. But then he realized something—this wasn't just a frozen world. It was a world waiting to be explored.
He sat in one of the booths, opening a menu left behind by a frozen patron. He didn't need to eat; the supplies in his apartment were more than enough for now. But sitting there, in the midst of a scene frozen in time, gave him a sense of connection. These people, though motionless, reminded him of the world he once knew.
As Ramses left the diner, he noticed something odd in his reflection on the glass door. His face, though leaner and sharper, still carried traces of the man who had let life pass him by. But his eyes were different. They seemed... alive.
Embracing Growth
Back in his apartment, Ramses decided to expand his routines. Exercise and meditation had laid the foundation, but he wanted more. He grabbed a notebook, its pages untouched for years, and wrote down everything he had ever wanted to try but never dared:
Learn to cook.
Play an instrument.
Speak another language.
Read every book I own.
Paint something. Anything.
Write.
The list wasn't long, but it was ambitious. Ramses felt a flicker of excitement, a feeling he hadn't experienced in years.
He started with cooking. His pantry was stocked with canned goods and dried pasta, a collection of uninspired ingredients. But Ramses wanted to turn them into something meaningful. He pulled out an old cookbook and flipped through its pages, selecting a recipe for a simple tomato sauce.
The first attempt was a disaster. The sauce was watery, the pasta overcooked. Ramses stared at the plate, laughing despite himself. "Well, it's a start," he said, taking a bite.
The next day, he tried again. This time, the sauce was thicker, richer. By the end of the week, he had mastered the recipe, adding his own twists with herbs and spices. Cooking became a ritual, a way to ground himself.
Next, he tackled music. He had an old acoustic guitar collecting dust in the corner of his apartment, a relic from a time when he had dreamed of being a musician. The strings were out of tune, and his fingers fumbled over the frets, but Ramses didn't care. He spent hours strumming the same chords, his determination growing with each failed attempt.
The sound of music, however imperfect, filled the silence of his apartment. It was a reminder that even in a frozen world, there was movement, progress.
Finding Joy in Solitude
As the days turned into weeks, Ramses began to embrace the solitude. He no longer viewed the stillness as a prison but as a sanctuary. He spent hours reading, losing himself in the words of great thinkers and storytellers. Philosophy books challenged his mind, while novels offered him an escape into worlds far removed from his own.
He experimented with painting, his clumsy brushstrokes gradually giving way to something that resembled art. The walls of his apartment became a gallery of his efforts—a mixture of landscapes, abstract shapes, and portraits of people he remembered.
One evening, as he stood before a painting of his mother, Ramses felt a pang of longing. He missed her voice, her warmth. He missed the way she used to encourage him, even when he felt unworthy of her love.
"Mom," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry I wasn't stronger before. I'm trying now. I hope... I hope you'd be proud."
The words hung in the air, unanswered. But Ramses felt lighter, as though speaking them had lifted a weight from his chest.
A New Perspective
The more Ramses embraced his solitude, the more he began to see the frozen world differently. It wasn't just a place of stillness—it was a place of possibility. Each frozen moment became a reminder that life, even in its quietest moments, held potential.
One afternoon, while walking through the park, Ramses sat on a bench next to a frozen man reading a newspaper. For the first time, he felt no envy for the man's stillness. Ramses realized he had been given something precious: a chance to grow, to rebuild himself without the distractions of the past.
As he watched the unmoving trees cast long shadows across the ground, Ramses smiled. He still didn't know why the world had stopped or if it would ever start again. But for now, that didn't matter. What mattered was the person he was becoming.
The world was frozen, but Ramses was finally alive.