Just the slow sound of cattle shifting in their stalls, the cold air carrying the smell of hay, and the sky barely turning gray before sunrise.
The barn creaked softly as the night loosened its grip, one beam of pale light slipping through the cracks in the wooden walls.
He stood there for a moment, hands tucked into his coat, watching the world wake up in pieces—first the rustle, then the breath of animals, then the distant call of a rooster breaking the silence.
Everything felt still, but not empty.
It was the kind of quiet that didn’t ask for anything… just time to exist.
And for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel rushed to move on from it.
