C293 The Conflicted Clarissa.

In the room, the woman stood silently at the bedroom window, gazing out at the kaleidoscope of red lights and the bustling traffic below. From her high-rise vantage point, the men and women on the streets were reduced to mere specks, scurrying about like ants.

Each person was immersed in their own life, seemingly content, each harboring their own untold stories