Mark never listens to music while driving. That time in silence gives him the peace to think properly. Nevertheless, he regrets not having fixed his stereo before today because now his thoughts are in war; because maybe –just maybe– a stupid love song could make him change his destination in a heartbeat.
But silence guides him through the darkest streets of his past as a broken compass he once thought was fixed.
He exits the parked car and knocks on the door with his cold knuckles, taking a deep breath afterwards.
A couple of minutes pass by and he steps back, looking up at the sky as if a divine light would tell him if that was the best decision to make.
And it's not a force up above what buries him in misery, but a pair of brown eyes that know him so well to the point to bri
