I woke up at 3 p.m. today. The light through the blinds looked wrong, like it had been waiting for me. I thought, why do we do things in the day? Maybe that’s the trick maybe the real world only starts when everyone else goes to sleep.

So I waited for the night. Didn’t eat, didn’t move much. Just waited. The sky went dark so fast, like someone flipped a switch, and that was when I got up. I put on my jacket and shoes and went outside.

The air was heavy, like the whole city was holding its breath. The stores were closed every single one. Not just the ones that usually close early. Even the ones that stay open. The lights behind the glass were still on, but no one was there. I saw a chair tipped over inside a café, like someone left in a hurry.

I went down to the subway. The escalator was moving, but no one was on it. The sound of the steps kept repeating like a heartbeat. Down there, it smelled like metal and rain.

The board said one train 18 minutes. Always 18. It never changed. I sat down and watched the sign flicker. The lights buzzed louder than usual, like they were whispering something I couldn’t catch.

When the train came, the doors opened, and it was empty. Not just empty clean. Too clean. Like no one had ever been inside it before. I got in anyway.

The ride was quiet. The windows showed nothing. Not tunnels, not lights, just a gray blur sliding past. I tried to count the stations, but they all looked the same.

When I got off at Slussen, it was like stepping into a photograph. The city was still, frozen mid breath. No people, no cars, just the soft hum of everything waiting. I walked. Every window reflected me, but sometimes it didn’t sometimes it was just the street behind me.

I kept walking until I forgot which way I came. My footsteps started echoing wrong, like someone else was following a half second behind. I turned around no one.

After a while, I sat down on a bench. I thought I saw movement by the water, but maybe it was just my reflection blinking. The lights on the buildings were on, but no rooms behind them, just lights floating in the air.

That’s when I realized: the city doesn’t sleep. People do. The city just waits until we’re gone to be itself.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard the train again. Same sound. Same 18 minutes.

I think it’s still waiting for me.