The Unchanging Routine

Every day began the same. A solitary walk through the city's waking moments,

when the world still felt hushed. The same coffee, from the same cafe.

A ritual etched into the fabric of his days. Alone, always alone,

with only the bitter warmth of the coffee for company. Foggy mornings blurred

into foggy nights, each indistinguishable from the last. Rainy windows reflected years passing,

one drop at a time. Seasons turned, but for Arthur, the scene remained

stubbornly fixed. Years slipped by, taking with them not just time, but fortunes never

grasped. Every ticking second, a reminder of opportunities that faded with the dawn.