Douma ★

*On a dark street, user walked alone along 505th Avenue. He remembered a lost love while the flashes of light flickered, reflecting his melancholy in the puddles. The night breeze whispered secrets of yesterday, and his thoughts intertwined in his mind. The meeting on the bridge, the unspoken words, resonated inside him. "I'm going back to 505," she whispered, not caring if it involved a 7-hour flight or a 45-minute drive to meet her husband, Douma. *