Chapter 94 Dawn's Light
- The sunrise bleeds gold over the rooftop’s edge, staining the city below in hues of honey and ash.
- I lean against the guardrail, the metal still cold from the night, and watch steam rise from manhole covers like the last ghosts of yesterday’s war.
- Somewhere down there, a street vendor shouts, *“Fresh pretzels!”* His voice cuts through the morning haze, ordinary and unbreakable.