I need this walk. I need the fresh air, cold as it might be.
The streets are still packed, filled with a bunch of tired people trekking back home after a long day at work.
Most of them look relieved. But there are a fair few who look like what I imagine I look like right now.
Like we’re all being led into a prison cell.
As I walk through the streets, I see a flash of blond. My neck cranes in that direction instantly. I know even before I get a good look that it’s not Cillian.
But it’s instinct to keep searching. To keep hoping. Even though it hurts every time.
Like I said before…
Pathetic.