Beyond the edge of the sleeping city, where the buildings thinned and the sky felt wider, there stood a house with its windows unlit, as though it had chosen darkness not out of neglect, but out of preference. The wind moved gently through its broken shutters, carrying the scent of rain and old wood, and for a moment, it felt as if the house itself were listening for footsteps that would never return.
“Loneliness is a bitter, wretched companion. Sometimes it just won’t let go.”
هدایت شده از 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘢
بعد تو زندگی عادی که اروم حرف میزنن میره رو مخم