Imagine this: You go to bed exhausted, as usual. The room is dark except for the faint glow of streetlights slipping through the blinds. As the clock strikes midnight, your shadow detaches itself from the wall, stretches like a cat waking from a long nap, and stands up—fully formed, three-dimensional, and completely independent.
It looks exactly like you, but somehow more. Its movements are fluid and fearless. No hesitation, no overthinking. It glances back at your sleeping body with something between pity and amusement, then slips out the window into the night, borrowing the next twenty-four hours of your existence.
