The rain had just stopped, leaving Marrowbrook's streets soft and shimmering. Street lights bounced on puddles like fractured glass. Eli Bennett leaned back in his car, rubbing his neck and muttering, "Fuck... another long day." College classes, endless assignments, and the taxi shifts weren't glamorous-but they were real, and they kept him moving.
He glanced at the empty backseat. A professor from Midwest State University had left a pen behind. Eli picked it up, twisted it in his fingers, and chuckled. "Some people treasure gold... some people lose pens," he muttered.
The city was alive. Trams clanged along distant tracks. Cars honked impatiently. Steam curled from manhole covers. Every passenger was a story, and Eli liked imagining them.
A street vendor across the road called out, waving a tray of roasted nuts. "Hey! Get your nuts before they're gone!"
Eli smiled and waved back. "Not today, George! Maybe tomorrow!"
George shook his head, grumbling, "Cheapskate..." under his breath.
Then Eli noticed an old lady, arms folded like she owned the street corner, glaring at him as he parked near the library. "You young man! Watch where you're going next time!" she barked, her voice sharp.
"Sorry, ma'am!" Eli called, raising his hands. "I swear I didn't see-"
"Don't swear at me! Do I look like I care?" she snapped. Then, muttering, she shuffled off, muttering something about "kids these days..."
Eli laughed softly, shaking his head. Life in Marrowbrook was messy, loud, and often annoying-but he loved it anyway. He'd learned early that happiness wasn't something big. It was small-the smell of roasted nuts, the sound of distant saxophones, the sight of a kid splashing in a puddle and laughing like the world hadn't broken him yet.
Money was tight. College wasn't easy. His camera fund grew slowly. Sometimes the quiet hours made him feel a little lonely. But Eli had a rule: find joy wherever you can, no matter how small.
He parked by the river for a short break. The water reflected the neon lights in broken patterns, and bridges stretched over it like dark steel ribs. Steam rose from a nearby vent. Eli thought of life like the river-messy and unpredictable, but always moving forward. Even small acts-a smile, a kind word-could ripple farther than anyone knew.
Somewhere across the city, someone else was walking. Someone dangerous, silent, and carrying weight. Eli didn't know her yet. He didn't know her story. But he knew this city had many stories, and sometimes they collided in unexpected ways.
Eli started the engine again, listening to Marrowbrook hum. Whatever tomorrow brought, he'd find joy in it, even if it was just a tiny spark.