Under the evening sky, the air had begun to cool. One by one, the sounds of the world faded as birds returned to their nests and people drifted away from the park.

  Alex watched people move through the park. A couple walked by hand in hand. Nearby, a family of four packed up their picnic basket, and across the vast pond a group of college students posed for a group photo.

  The world continued, untouched by his thoughts.

  He quietly watched it all for a moment longer… then finally spoke.

  “Have you ever had a dream,” he began slowly, “where you’re falling and just before you hit the ground, you wake up?”

  He glanced at Clara briefly. “Your body kind of jerks. Like you actually slammed into something.”

  Clara’s gaze flickered toward him. For a moment, she didn’t answer.

  Then she smiled softly. “I have.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mhm.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s called a hypnic jerk. Happens when your brain thinks your body’s shutting down too fast.” She paused, glancing at him more carefully. “Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “You’ve been having those?”

  He shrugged. “Something like that.”

  She studied him for a second longer than usual but didn’t press.

  “It’s getting late,” Clara said after a while, her gaze drifting toward the sky where the first real stars were beginning to appear.

  For a moment, she let the silence linger. Her expression softened, eyes widening slightly as if remembering something distant and warm.

  Then, slowly she said. “You know, I never thought I’d be here. In District Sixteen. The place of great minds.”

  Alex frowned faintly. “Great minds?”

  “Yes,” she replied, turning to him. “The Newcrest family. Dr. Vaelor. That neural research group that made headlines last year. This district is full of people who build things that change the world.”

  She smiled faintly. “It’s intimidating.”

  Alex looked back at the pond. “Or isolating.”

  Clara blinked, then let out a quiet laugh. “That too.”

  A breeze passed between them, cool and light.

  “So, Alex…” she tilted her head slightly, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You know, I don’t really know much about you. Apart from your namem and well… that we’re neighbors.”

  A slight frown appeared on his face. His eyes flickered toward her, then up into the branches of the tree above them.

  “Huh…you’re right,” he admitted.

  “Well?” she prompted gently.

  He hesitated, then sighed softly. “What do you want about me?”

  “Mhm let’s start with our full names.”

  “Well am Alex Dawson,” he said finally.

  “Dawson?” Clara exclaimed, blinking rapidly. “I had a childhood friend named Dawson.”

  Alex’s gaze shifted back to her. “Had?”

  Her expression shifted, the teasing light fading into something softer. “Yeah. We moved when I was twelve. Lost contact.” She gave a small shrug. “We used to climb this ridiculous mango tree behind his house. I fell once and swore I’d never climb again.”

  “And?”

  “And he climbed up anyway and wouldn’t come down until I tried again.” She laughed quietly. “Stubborn idiot.”

  Alex smiled softly.“ So what happened?” he asked.

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  Clara’s smile thinned. “Life,” she said simply. “People drift.”

  A pause settled between them.

  Then she nudged his shoulder lightly. “Don’t worry. I’m not saying you remind me of him.”

  “That’s reassuring. I think.”

  She laughed. “You’re quieter. And you look like you overthink everything.”

  He didn’t deny it. Instead he simply smiled.

  After a while of quiet chatter. The two began their journey home.

  The man drifted across the pond in his small wooden boat, fishing beneath a sky scattered with cold starlight. The park pathway curved along the water’s edge, lit by tall iron poles that cast pale halos onto the ground. Mist gathered slowly, folding into itself as it settled low against the grass.

  Alex felt a shiver run down his spine. The dark forest came back to him.

  ‘Could it really have been just a dream?’

  He reached out, fingers brushing through the mist. It slipped around his skin, cool and damp, leaving nothing behind. He tried to remember what the forest air had felt like. The weight of it. The cold. The way it pressed against his lungs.

  Was it the same?

  Come to think of it, beyond the pain and exhaustion, the things that lingered only in memory, what else did he remember? Smell? Texture? The sound of wind through leaves?

  His thoughts stalled. Had he truly been dreaming?

  “Alex?”

  Clara tilted her head slightly, studying him. “You seem like you have a lot on your mind.”

  He blinked, the park snapping back into focus.

  “Uh…yeah,” he muttered, “ Well, just thinking.”

  “Alex!”

  “Yeah.”

  He turned toward her, only to be caught completely off guard as Clara suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him.

  “Uh… Clara?”

  “The bus!” she said, already half running. “I think it’s the last one tonight!”

  Alex stumbled after her for a second before matching her pace. The sudden movement forced a laugh out of him despite himself.

  “The bus?” he repeated.

  Her grip tightened as they rounded the curved stone path that led toward the park gate.

  “There!” she said.

  Alex’s eyes widened as he spotted it.

  A sleek city bus waited near the gate, its smooth metal surface reflecting the street lights. The doors were open, interior lights glowing softly.

  “Right. The bus,” Alex said as the realization clicked.

  They sprinted the last few steps. Just as the bus doors began sliding shut, Clara reached forward and tapped the side panel. The doors paused and reopened with a quiet mechanical sigh.

  Inside. The bus was nearly empty. A few scattered passengers sat quietly, some staring out the windows, others absorbed in their screens. The vehicle hummed softly as it moved, gliding forward without any visible driver.

  Alex and Clara dropped into a pair of seats near the middle.

  Clara leaned back, breathless, laughing quietly. “Made it,” she said.

  Alex exhaled, running a hand through his hair as his heart slowly settled. “That was unnecessary,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

  “You say that now,” she replied, glancing out the window. “But the next one comes in forty minutes.”

  “Fair point.”

  They sat quietly as the bus glided smoothly through the evening streets. Outside, the park lights faded behind them, replaced by a blur of glass towers reflecting the deepening night, streams of traffic moving like veins of light through the avenues.

  Clara rested her chin lightly in her hand.

  “You know,” she said, “for someone who lives here, you don’t look like you go out much.”

  Alex chuckled faintly. “I go out.”

  “When?”

  He hesitated. “Fair.”

  She laughed again, the sound light and unguarded.

  For a moment, Alex’s mind was at ease. The forest, the crossing, the lingering unease all retreated to the back of his thoughts. For now, his mind allowed him a moment of quiet.

  Coming to a slow stop the two stepped out of the bus and into the cool night air.

  They walked a short distance to their building together, the conversation drifting easily between small observations and quiet pauses.

  When they reached the damp carpet scented hallway, Clara stopped by her apartment door.

  “I had a great time, Alex,” she said, offering him a warm smile.

  He nodded. “Yeah… me too.”

  She stepped forward, her form halfway the doorway. “Saturday,” she reminded him. “Don’t forget.”

  “I won’t.”

  She smiled once more. “Goodnight. Alex”

  “Goodnight.”

  Alex watched as she disappeared into her apartment. Something unexpected settled in his chest. A small, quiet sense of warmth.

  He hadn’t realized how much he needed something… normal. Then he turned and headed to his own door.

  The moment he stepped inside his apartment, the feeling faded.