♣︎Kameden

It was a cool November evening, the time was about one o'clock in the morning, and I just returned home, a little drunk, because I was celebrating a holiday at work. The crisp air hit my face as I fumbled with my keys, the metallic taste of laughter and the remnants of cheap wine still lingering on my breath. Shadows danced under the streetlights, and the world around me felt softer, almost dreamlike, as if reality had blurred its edges. As I pushed the door open, the familiar scent of my apartment wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. I kicked off my shoes and wandered to the kitchen, where remnants of dinner still lay scattered on the table. I poured myself a glass of water, the coolness washing away the warmth of the evening. The empty silence of the night enveloped me, and I couldn’t help but smile, replaying snippets of the celebration in my mind—laughter, clinking glasses, and the camaraderie of my colleagues.