Coming home

It's half past one in the morning. You say goodbye to your friends after another Friday night drinking and talking at Tom's Bar. It was like a ritual for you and your friends: after college, get some money, go to Tom and enjoy until everyone feels tired enough to go home.

You didn't live that far, so you could walk again, the problem is that only you lived that way, so you came back alone.

Dark sky, dark alleys. Streets and asphalt well lit by poles and cars. No stars in the sky… after all, you lived in a metropolis. In the background, the noise of the train sliding down the tracks, and beside you, the cars cutting the wind and the roar of their smooth engines as they passed you.

Men and women returning from their jobs, going to parties or even going to work passed you. Each with their own life. Metropolises were always dangerous, you know. You were taking a risk every Friday night coming home like this, alone.

You left the avenues and entered a less busy neighborhood, that's where you lived.

The silence of the night is sometimes disturbing.