The buzzing of her phone dragged Alex out of her sleep. She reached for it on instinct, her hand blindly searching for the device on the nightstand. The room was still dark—grey London light barely filtering through the heavy curtains. Her eyes flickered to the screen. 6:45 a.m. Another restless night.
The flat was too cold for her liking. The old, narrow windows let in a chill that never seemed to fade, even in October when the air in South London was already damp with autumn drizzle. Alex sat up in bed, pulling the covers tight around her. The flat felt cold, unwelcoming, as it often did in the early mornings of late autumn. She hugged her knees to her chest, looking at the walls, at the familiar peeling white paint. Her hand went to her hair, smoothing down the stray strands of dark brown curls—a gesture of unconscious anxiety. Her sister, Megan, used to joke that Alex's hair had a life of its own, like her thoughts—always slightly unruly, always on edge.
Her fingers scrolled through her phone as if on autopilot—social media posts, emails, news headlines about the latest chaos in Westminster, the perpetual grind of the city. She sighed, tossing the phone aside, leaning her head back against the pillow. Why does it all feel so pointless? The thought gnawed at her, sharper than usual. It wasn’t depression, exactly. It was more like a quiet, constant dissatisfaction. A hunger for something more that she couldn’t name.
The alarm sounded again, this time more insistent. She pressed her palm against her eyes, sighing deeply before throwing back the duvet and swinging her legs out of bed. The floor was cold underfoot. As she padded toward the tiny bathroom, the sound of the outside world filtered in—a distant hum of buses, cars, and footsteps echoing down the narrow streets below. London never slept, not really. It churned endlessly, full of people living lives she felt disconnected from.
She splashed cold water on her face, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her brown eyes, once full of light and curiosity, now seemed duller. The faint creases around them betrayed a restlessness that had plagued her for months. She wasn’t unhappy, not truly. But she wasn’t fulfilled, either. She was simply... existing. Alex had always had a penchant for bright colors, but lately, she found herself gravitating toward muted tones that mirrored her mood.
Matt had tried to understand that feeling once. But eventually, he’d stopped trying. His departure had been quiet, inevitable. No shouting or bitter arguments. Just a suitcase by the door one rainy Sunday and a mumbled goodbye that felt more like relief than regret. That was six months ago, and though his side of the bed remained empty, the void he left didn’t sting like it once did.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
She dressed quickly, pulling on a cozy grey jumper and her favorite pair of faded jeans, the ones that felt like a hug. As she grabbed her coat from the hook by the door, she noticed a small piece of fabric—a vibrant blue scarf she had bought on a whim. It was a reminder of a time when spontaneity felt like an adventure rather than a risk.
Outside, the city was waking up properly now. The street below bustled with pedestrians on their way to work, umbrellas in hand as grey clouds gathered overhead. The Tube ride to her office in Camden was as monotonous as ever—packed carriages, people with headphones in, heads down, eyes glazed. The train jerked forward, and Alex found herself staring blankly at her reflection in the window again, her mind drifting. She couldn’t shake the dream from last night—that corridor. It had been clearer than ever before. Endless doors, all identical, stretching out forever. She’d walked down it, but as always, she woke up before she could open any of the doors.
She shook the thought off. It was just a dream. That’s all. But a part of her—deep down—knew better. That corridor had haunted her for months now, appearing in fragments, each time more vivid than the last.
As the train pulled into Camden Town, Alex felt that strange pull in her chest again, the same one she’d felt just before waking up. For a moment, she stood frozen on the platform, watching the crowd stream past her. The feeling was overwhelming—like she was being tugged somewhere she couldn’t see. She forced herself to move, walking quickly towards the exit, hoping the cold air would clear her mind. But the feeling lingered.
Crossing the street, dodging the usual traffic, the sound of honking cars and cyclists whizzing by, she spotted a food stall nestled between two shops. The aroma of sizzling street food wafted through the air, mingling with the dampness of the morning. Standing near the stall was a man, tall and athletic, with very dark hair and striking blue eyes. He wore a well-fitted navy coat that accentuated his broad shoulders, giving him a mysterious allure. A slight stubble adorned his jawline, adding to his rugged charm.
Their eyes met briefly, and an inexplicable spark ignited in her chest. There was something about him—an undeniable connection, a flicker of recognition that sent her heart racing. She brushed it off as a figment of her imagination, but the warmth of his gaze lingered, echoing deep within her.
Alex ordered a coffee, trying to shake off the feeling, yet her thoughts kept drifting back to the man at the stall. He was just a stranger, she reminded herself, but something about him felt strangely familiar, like a forgotten song playing in the back of her mind. With her coffee in hand, she turned to leave, but glanced back once more. He was watching her, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.
She arrived at the office, barely registering the noise around her. The familiar faces of her co-workers greeted her, but she felt detached, as if she were watching life through a window. She caught a glimpse of herself in the glass door—a tired, worn version of the girl she used to be, full of ambition and dreams. But where had those dreams gone?
Settling at her desk, Alex tried to focus on the spreadsheets that awaited her, but the memory of the man’s piercing blue eyes lingered. Maybe today would bring something different, something she had been yearning for—something more than the monotony of her current existence.