In the left pocket of my coat, the key jingles with a sound I have almost forgotten. Its weight a reminder of places unexplored.
Outside, the world passes by as it always does; a blur of faces, voices muted by the echo of solitude. But here, inside this canvas of white and gray, possibilities unfold like paper wings.
The door, they said, leads to nowhere. But isn't that a destination in itself? I breathe, and the air shifts, carrying whispers from paths untraveled.
Things will be different. Somewhere unnoticed, unnoticed by all yet evident to none, a choice waits.