Switching under bridges, I found solace in the echoes of passing cars above me. The quiet rumble of the city above was my daily symphony, a constant reminder of the world outside my makeshift shelter. I would spend hours wandering the streets, dodging shadows and seeking refuge in abandoned alleys.
Life under the bridges brought me both freedom and fear. The uncertainty of each day was a constant weight on my shoulders, but the thrill of survival kept me going. I met others like me, fellow wanderers who had also found comfort in the shadows. We shared stories and secrets, forming a makeshift community in the darkness.
Despite the hardships, there was a sense of freedom in my transient lifestyle. I was untethered, unburdened by the expectations of society above. Under the bridges, I was free to be myself, to live on my own terms.
As the days passed, I found a strange sense of peace in my chaotic world. The bridges became my home, my refuge from the chaos of the city above. I had found my place in the shadows, where the echoes of passing cars were my only companions.
Image by Jörn Pachl from Flickr.
