I didn’t sleep much after the storm broke. The fireflies in the dark were the only thing that made sense. They glowed so soft, like they were waiting for me to remember something. I stood by the old ruins again, just for a minute—those crumbling walls, the way the light hits them at night. It’s strange how the same place can feel both safe and too close. I don’t know why I keep going back there. Maybe because it’s the only place where the silence isn’t scary.
Now, as the sky turns pale, I wonder if the river will come back. Or if it’s just me, chasing shadows in the rain. My legs feel heavy, but my mind’s too restless. I’m tired of running, but I don’t know where to stop. I’ll sleep now—before the storm comes again.