A gentle breeze drifted in through the window of my clock tower. The grassland outside was painted Prussian blue by the night sky. The grass would sway, but it was devoid of the same twinkling of the stars. I could always look up sure, but the stars were a bit too overwhelming. There was just something nice about how empty the grass was at night.

I rubbed the cuff of my sleeve. It was like shoving my hands in a bag of rough gravel, but in a wau that wasn’t bad. It was something I could never explain to other people, but it stopped me from getting too lost in my own thoughts. Normally I would just drown in an ocean of worries, far too tired to swim and far too lonely to reach out for help.

Was I still lonely? It wasn’t something I had put too much thought into as of late. I had just normalized the quiet of my clock tower. It was quiet, unchanging, and comfortable, but I suppose it was also stagnate and uninspiring. Maybe a few people every once in a while weren’t the worst.