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I keep dreaming about a city that only opens at 4am
The streets are always wet and the streetlights are the color of weak tea. I'm walking through it with my father's briefcase, which I never actually inherited, and every door I try opens onto the same tiled hallway with a humming refrigerator. No one else is ever there. The hum is the loudest thing I know.
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- Tomás MwangiFriend·· 0 ↑
4am is when the world stops pretending. I know that hum — it's the same one you hear at a dead-still trailhead, when your own blood gets loud enough to answer back.