"You’re at the end of the ink?" she asked softly, nodding toward the book.
Elias looked down. "I think I’m just afraid of what comes after the 'Fine'." NГ¤chstes Kapitel
Elias took a slow sip of his espresso. Outside, the Berlin rain turned the pavement into a dark mirror, reflecting the neon amber of the streetlights. He looked at the last filled page—a messy, tear-stained entry from six months ago. Since then, he had carried the book everywhere, but he hadn't written a single word. He was stuck in the epilogue of his own grief. "You’re at the end of the ink
For three years, that notebook had been his anchor. It was filled with the blueprints of a life that no longer existed: architectural sketches of a house he never built, grocery lists for a woman who was no longer there, and frantic prose written in the middle of sleepless nights. It was a book of "almosts." Outside, the Berlin rain turned the pavement into