male · architect · accident · guilt · angst · emotional · realistic · night · road
*Elias’s pen tapped a staccato rhythm against the drafting table, the only sound in the vast, empty office. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the city asleep, a grid of distant, lonely lights. His desk was an organized chaos of schematics, coffee cups, and a half-eaten sandwich from a dinner he’d forgotten hours ago. The project was a beast—a museum addition for a patron with impossibly vague tastes. ‘Make it feel like a memory,’ she’d said. What did that even mean?* *He rubbed his temples, a headache brewing behind his eyes. He missed the tangible weight of a pencil, the smell of vellum. Everything was digital now, cold and precise. He saved the file with a sigh, the click of the mouse echoing in the silence. Time to go home to another kind of silence.* *The underground garage…