Paul stood outside Fresh & Save. The frost-lined pavement shimmered faintly under the flickering streetlights. His breath clouded in front of him as he studied the store’s automatic doors. They remained closed, unresponsive, as if waiting for something.

The store’s atmosphere was suffocating when Paul arrived. The air felt thick, almost gelatinous, as if moving through it took more effort. The lights overhead were dimmer than usual, but the shadows they cast were sharper, stretching unnaturally along the aisles.

Paul arrived at Fresh & Save earlier than usual. The shop’s cold glow greeted him, but today the light seemed… fractured. The aisles shimmered faintly, as though viewed through warped glass.

The sharp chill of the morning air bit at Paul’s face as he stepped out of his flat. The street outside was as routine as always: the dog walker and his unnervingly obedient companion, the low hum of the streetlights, and the faint clatter of a newspaper being dropped onto a doorstep. Yet, today, it all felt distant, as though Paul were watching it happen through a pane of frosted glass.

Paul arrived at Fresh & Save early, the store bathed in a sterile glow. The hum of the lights greeted him like an old adversary, sharper and louder than usual. He paused at the entrance, staring at the faint reflections of the fluorescent bulbs on the glass doors. For a moment, he thought he saw movement - something flickering in the reflection that didn’t match his own.

Paul woke to the sound of rain tapping against the window. The flat was darker than usual, the heavy clouds outside dulling the morning light. He glanced at his notebook on the table, yesterday’s last entry standing out in bold: Something isn’t right.

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.