The first rays of dawn slipped through the blinds, casting faint stripes of light across Paul’s cramped flat. The notebook lay open on the table, the ink of yesterday’s entry slightly smudged. Paul sat by the window, sipping coffee from a chipped mug, his gaze fixed on the man walking the dog.

The low hum of streetlights crept through Paul’s small flat, blending with the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock. Paul lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his eyes tracing faint water stains he’d memorised months ago. He wasn’t sure what had woken him - the noise outside or his own restless thoughts.