4 AM at the Probability Cafe The city feels different at this hour - like it's holding its breath. The streets of downtown Chicago have this eerie emptiness that makes every footstep echo. It's not completely dead though; there's always someone else awake in a city this size. Tonight, it's a stray cat that keeps pace with me for a block before disappearing into an alley, and a tired-looking guy hosing down the sidewalk in front of what must be his restaurant. My feet carry me down familiar streets, but something feels off. The air has this electric quality to it, like right before a thunderstorm, except the sky is clear. The stars are actually visible tonight - weird for Chicago. They seem to be arranged in patterns I've never noticed before, forming connections that don't match any constellation I learned about in school. I check my phone: 3:57 AM. That can't be right. I've been walking for at least twenty minutes. I tap the screen, but the numbers don't change. When I look up, I realize I don't recognize this street anymore. Get your copy
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