The office lights were harsh and unpleasant, the smell of coffee hanging in the air.
Steve pushed himself back from his desk, the wheels of his chair creaking silently on the worn carpet. He stood, his knuckles slightly out of place, and with a critical eye, he gathered the scattered papers and disorganized files.
When the clock struck 5:30, he shut down his computer. He collected his belongings, neatly stuffing a stack of papers into his worn briefcase. After a final look around his office, making sure everything was in the right place, he stepped out into the dimly lit lobby. The building was emptying, people rushing home and back to their lives. Steve walked alone, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor, an isolated figure amidst the departing crowd.
The city streets were alive with the cacophony of rush-hour traffic and hurried conversations. Steve navigated the crowded sidewalks, his gaze fixed on the ground, avoiding eye contact with strangers. The noise was deafening, a relentless barrage of horns and shouted conversations that assaulted his senses.
The sky darkened, and the first raindrops began to fall, scattering onto the pavement. He looked up, watching the clouds gather, their heavy presence mirroring his own fear. He quickened his pace, seeking shelter under the awning of a nearby shop. The rain intensified, suddenly soaking his thin jacket. He stood there, shivering slightly, as the world around him faded into a gray haze.
The screen in the shop in front of him displayed a grim-faced reporter standing outside the police cordon. She said solemnly,
"The investigation into the murder of a neighbor in the ..."
Suddenly, a little girl, no more than ten years old, huddled under the awning beside her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and frightened. He shifted uncomfortably to avoid her.
The rain began to subside, the downpour turning into a light drizzle. He glanced at his watch, a feeling of urgency returning. He had a strict schedule to stick to, and every minute he spent standing there was wasted.
Steve stepped out from under the awning, his eyes fixed on the wet pavement ahead. He moved across the busy sidewalk, weaving effortlessly between the hurrying pedestrians.
His foot landed on the pavement, and his mind was already drifting back to the comfort of his apartment.
He's crossing the street. Suddenly, a truck horn wailed, cutting through the city noise. Time seemed to slow down as he turned, and his eyes widened in terror. The truck's cab loomed before him, its massive form overwhelming his vision. Pain shot through his body as the vehicle slammed into him, sending him flying through the air like a rag doll.
The world spun wildly as he hit the hard ground, expelling air from his lungs. His voice was muffled and distant. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but everything remained blurry. The pain spread through his body, sharp and intense, stealing his breath. The taste of copper filled his mouth, and with a growing sense of panic, he realized it was his own blood.
His gaze drifted upward, his eyes struggling to focus on the figures hovering above him. They were mere shadows, their faces hidden beneath the glare of distant lampposts. He could hear whispers, the echoing noise of anxiety and shock. A face drew closer, its features a woman's, her eyes wide with worry.
The woman's voice faded into the background as Steve's gaze drifted upward, his eyes losing focus. A raindrop fell, landing softly on his cheek. It rolled down his face, mingling with the warm, sticky blood that coated his skin.
The rain intensified, its gentle drizzle turning into a steady downpour. Water seeped through his clothes, his eyelids grew heavy, and the world blurred into a gray haze. The sounds around him faded to an incomprehensible whisper, and with a final, trembling breath, Steve slipped into unconsciousness.