I grew to love the quiet air of the dawn, and at some point, I started leaving the house at the same time every day.

The streets before sunrise were always silent, and walking slowly down the empty roads helped calm my complicated thoughts.

Then one day,

I started running into the same man under a streetlamp every single day. At first, I just brushed it off and ignored him,

but the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that...

He was always standing in the same spot at the same time.

“You pass by here at this time every day.”

“Well, you're here every day too.”

“...Were you waiting for me by any chance?”

“It's not exactly waiting.”

He looked down at his cigarette for a moment and spoke nonchalantly.

“When it's time for you to come here, I just feel like being here.”