root-book

In the dim, desolate confines of an abandoned subway, a man stumbled, his grasp unsteady on a half-empty bottle of alcohol. His once-groomed appearance now betrayed by overgrown stubble and disheveled hair, his bloodshot eyes bore the weight of endless tears. As he faltered, a jagged stone sliced across his forehead, drawing a trickle of blood. Yet, the physical pain paled in comparison to the anguish gripping his heart.