Taking refuge in an abandoned warehouse from the cold autumn night, I huddled beneath a moth-eaten tarp, breath curling in ghostly wisps. Wind howled through broken windows, rattling rusted beams like skeletal fingers. Moonlight sliced through dust-choked air, illuminating forgotten machinery and graffiti ghosts. The scent of damp concrete and decay wrapped around me — strange comfort in desolation. Outside, leaves skittered like frightened creatures. Inside, silence pooled thick and heavy. I wasn’t safe… but I was sheltered. For now, the warehouse held back the frost, cradling me in its crumbling arms until dawn dared to creep through the cracks.
