Viktor smiled. He didn't reply. He had already downloaded the template he really needed: a blank page.
Viktor returned home to an apartment that felt cavernous and light. He sat on the floor, the only furniture left being a single suitcase. Just as he reached to turn off the lamp, his phone vibrated.
He stood back and watched. People hurried past, collars turned up against the wind. No one stopped. The Ending
Including one vintage typewriter (ribbon dry), three crates of unread philosophy books, and a collection of jazz records that used to play until 4:00 AM.