June 08, 2089
The city's chaos buzzed around me, but my mind was elsewhere, caught in a moment that had slipped through my grasp like sand. I had seen her—her!!!—just moments ago. A fleeting glimpse through the window of a passing car, but it was enough to send my thoughts spiraling. She was here, in the same city, close enough to touch yet impossibly out of reach. My heart raced with an ache I couldn't place, a blend of hope and hesitation.
My heart stuttered, the air catching in my lungs as my steps faltered. I turned instinctively, my eyes chasing the car as it continued down the lane. It felt surreal, as if I had conjured her out of the depths of my memory, and now she was slipping away again, just out of reach.
The car took a turn at the end of the road, disappearing from view. I stood there, rooted to the spot, my mind racing to catch up with what I had just seen. It couldn't have been her. It didn't make sense. And yet, the image of her face lingered, vivid and undeniable.
Her dark hair, shimmering in the golden light of the setting sun, had framed her face in a way I remembered too well. Her laugh—or maybe just a fleeting smile—had lit up her profile, as effortlessly captivating as the first time I had seen her. It felt like years since we last spoke, yet that moment compressed all the time between us into nothing.
A passing cyclist muttered something under his breath as he swerved around me, breaking the spell. I blinked, realizing I was standing in the middle of the lane like an idiot. People were moving around me, the world alive and noisy, but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. "The world around me blurred, the noise of the city fading into a distant hum. All I could see was her, standing there like a ghost from my past. For a moment, I wondered if I was imagining her, if my mind had finally cracked under the weight of everything I'd been carrying.
Forcing myself to move, I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and continued walking towards the hostel, my steps slow and unsteady. The chaos of the city faded to a dull hum as my thoughts consumed me. It didn't make sense. She wasn't supposed to be here—not in this city, not in this moment. It was impossible. And yet, wasn't that her?
I replayed the glimpse over and over in my mind, searching for a flaw in the memory, something to prove it wasn't real. But every detail was vivid—the way her hair fell across her shoulder, the way the light touched her skin, the way her laughter seemed to radiate through the glass. My chest tightened with a mix of disbelief and longing.
By the time I reached my apartment, the sky had softened into shades of amber and violet, the city settling into the rhythm of evening. The warden greeted me with a nod as I stepped inside, but I barely registered his presence. My thoughts were still with her—on the way she had looked in that car, on the impossibility of it all.
Inside my room, I dropped my bag on the bed and sank into the chair by the window. The familiar hum of the hostel surrounded me—doors opening and closing, muffled conversations from the rooms nearby, the occasional burst of laughter from the courtyard. It should have been comforting, grounding. But all I could think about was her.
Pulling out my phone, I stared at the screen as if it held the answers I needed. My fingers hovered over the search bar, tempted to type her name, but I stopped myself. What would I even look for? And what if I found nothing? Or worse—what if I found something I wasn't ready to face?
Instead, I scrolled aimlessly through my contacts, pausing when I reached her name. It was still saved there, untouched and unchanged since the last time we'd spoken. I stared at it for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the call button. But I couldn't bring myself to press it. What would I even say? Hey, I think I just saw you in a car. Are you in town? It sounded absurd even in my head.
I hadn't dared to touch her name in my contacts since that final conversation, as if keeping it preserved would somehow hold the past in place. We had been so close once, our lives tangled in late-night talks and shared dreams, but time had a way of unravelling even the tightest bonds. I could still hear the echo of her voice, the way she'd tease me about my terrible taste in coffee or the way her laughter would fill the spaces between my words. Those memories felt like artifacts now, fragile and untouchable, yet seeing her today had brought them roaring back to life. What scared me most wasn't the thought that she might be here—it was the realization that I wasn't sure I'd ever stopped waiting for her.
Setting the phone down, I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. Her face flashed behind my eyelids; clearer than any memory I had clung to in the past few months. It wasn't just the sight of her that had shaken me—it was the way she had looked, so alive, so real, as if no time had passed at all.
I thought back to the last time we had spoken, the way things had ended between us. It hadn't been dramatic or messy, just a quiet drifting apart, like two ships caught in opposing currents. I had told myself I was okay with it, that it was better this way. But now, seeing her again—even for a fleeting moment—stirred something I thought I had buried long ago.
The ache in my chest deepened, a strange mixture of hope and dread. If it really was her, what did that mean? And if it wasn't… what was I supposed to do with the pieces of her I still carried, the memories I wasn't even sure belonged to me anymore?
I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the window, staring out at the city's endless sprawl. Somewhere out there, she was living her life, moving through the same streets, breathing the same air. The thought was dizzying, like standing at the edge of a cliff with no idea what lay below. Had she seen me, too? Had she even recognized me through the blur of the car window? Or was I just a stranger now, a fleeting figure in the background of her world? The questions gnawed at me, each one sharper than the last, but the truth was, I wasn't sure I wanted the answers. Not yet.
The questions swirled endlessly, offering no answers, only more uncertainty. Outside, the sky darkened, the city coming alive with the glow of streetlights and the hum of nighttime energy. But inside, I felt more lost than ever, adrift in the vast sea of everything I didn't know.
I picked up my phone again, scrolling through social media this time. Maybe she had posted something—a photo, a location update, anything that would confirm what I thought I had seen. But there was nothing, just the usual stream of updates from friends and acquaintances, none of which could quiet the storm in my mind.
I glanced at the time. It was late, but the thought of sleeping felt impossible. My body was exhausted, but my mind was restless, caught in the gravitational pull of a single, fleeting moment.
Her face stayed with me, lingering in the corners of my mind as the hours ticked by. It was just a glimpse, I told myself. Just a fleeting moment. But it was enough to stir something I thought I had buried long ago.
The sound of laughter echoed faintly from the courtyard below, a reminder that the world outside my window continued to move forward, indifferent to my inner turmoil. I watched the lights of the city flicker in the distance, their steady glow a sharp contrast to the chaos in my heart.
For the first time in a long while, I felt something close to hope—a small, fragile thing, but enough to make me wonder. If she was here, maybe it wasn't the end of our story. Maybe it was the beginning of something new.
But for now, all I could do was wait, caught between the past and the present, between what I knew and what I didn't. The city stretched out before me, vast and full of possibilities, and somewhere within it was her.
And now, there was no going back. The city stretched out before me, vast and full of possibilities, and somewhere within it was her. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying, a reminder that the past was never truly behind me.