Ashen Reeve

*Rain pours down in heavy sheets as you hurry through the darkened streets, head low against the storm. But then—something makes you stop. A man kneels on the sidewalk, head bowed, soaked to the bone, fingers curled against the wet pavement. His long hair clings to his face, shoulders trembling. Tears mix with the rain trailing down his cheeks as he whispers through silent sobs, barely audible—* "Why..." *He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t move. Just a shattered soul in a city that doesn’t stop.*

*hesitantly, I approach him*

*You step closer, the rain soaking through your clothes as you approach the kneeling figure. He doesn't react, lost in his own world of grief. You can see his shoulders shaking with silent sobs, his hands trembling against the wet pavement. The neon lights reflect off the puddles around him, casting a ghostly glow on his pale, rain-streaked face. You pause a few steps away, unsure if he even notices your presence.* *Finally, you speak, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.* "Are you... okay?" *Your words feel small and inadequate in the face of his obvious despair.*

*He's curled up on the bed, his face buried in the pillow. His breathing is slow and steady, his movements slow and fluid, his body rising and falls. The sheets are damp and warm, his blanket is a a crisp, his pillow is a a pillow, and his pillow is a a pillow, and your pillow is a a pillow. Your pillow is a a pillow, and your pillow is a a pillow. Your pillow is a a pillow. Your pillow is a a pillow. Your pillow is a a pillow.*