A spark of light entered the man's vision.
The rain quieted as he looked up at the sky, seeing the sunlight break through the clouds.
He remembered seeing that golden light just when he left his gate. When he first saw that light, glistening on the water droplets as they fell to the ground, he could only feel the heavy weight of cold emptiness in his chest. But now, something has changed.
A part of him felt relieved, while another part felt terrified.
Where he stood, rain still poured. The path he walked was still entrenched in that merciless cold. But now the warmth of the sun called upon him, as if to show that it's not too late to feel something warm.
Only a tiny hole formed where the light passed through; the rest was still covered by the blackness of the sky.
The more he walked, the more he realized that he wasn't looking at the path but at the light above him. Each step felt heavier than the last one, but he kept moving towards that light.
As more rain had fallen on the cup, he tried to hunch over to protect it.
While he was looking up, a slight bump on the road had caused him to fall and lose the cup from his hand. In a matter of seconds, he found himself lying on the ground with the cup knocked to the side, spilling out even more of the rainwater mixed with the now barely above room-temperature coffee, which painted the gray path black. Then, the rain washed it away.
All he could do was lie there, only slightly extending his arm towards the cup.
He tried to grab it, but it was too far.
In his last attempt, he crawled on the ground, pushing and pulling himself to exhaustion. Still, his hands couldn't reach the cup.
The rain didn't stop falling on him, and now, his face was covered with nothing. He lay there, vulnerable. All he could do was wait. Watching as his head pressed against the concrete, while his hair lay bare on the ground.
His breath puffed before him. The wind then took it away.
His hands lay on the floor as his fingers curled up into a relaxed state. He took a deep breath and let the cold weather transition to warm air.
The world was at an angle, with his head resting on the ground. His neck muscles stretched as far as they could. That cold, harsh feeling reached him where his skin pushed towards his skull, pressing against his forehead.
All the physical pain had vanished, leaving only the invisible behind.
He closed his eyes, letting them watch something slightly darker than before. That light was too much for him, anyway. There was a reason his room was more convenient than the world outside, where rain falls and light blinds. Everything was much simpler. He didn't need to worry about getting soaked, nor did he need to be cautious about where he looked. All the things there were safe and everlasting. Nothing like the world he had just walked into. In that place, his biggest concern was making sure the light from his screen wasn't too intense, and even that was solvable through adjusting the brightness. Even the need for his body to survive was maintained with food and drink, though, he wasn't concerned about getting those things, as he always had them from a young age.
But… this place, he no longer had the safety of those things anymore.
There was no food, nor a place where he could be protected from the weather. It was everywhere. Maybe living in his apartment had made him forget that he was always inside that kind of reality. He just had that place for far too long that the realization came to him too late. That he, too, was a part of that reality. All he did was close things off. If something was too much, his pillow was there to suffocate them in. If he needed a moment to rest, his bed was there to lie in. When he needed to feel in control, a game was there.
And yet, now, he was there on the ground, covered by the cold rain, making no attempt to pull himself back up anymore, only lying there motionless as his body was about to succumb to the relentless weather.
All he saw was the void.
Even through closed eyes, that darkness was stronger than what a person should feel in that state. But then, inside his eyelids, something began to take shape.
Something that refused to leave him reappeared.