I dreamed I was a city’s last witness

I stood on a rooftop at dawn, the kind of quiet that feels like it’s holding its breath. Below, the streets were empty but for shadows moving in slow motion—people walking without faces, just outlines. No one looked up. I didn’t know if I was real or just someone who’d forgotten how to leave. The sky wasn’t blue. It was the color of a hospital ceiling light after midnight. I woke up with my hand still raised, like I’d been trying to signal something no one would see.