He stepped outside. No destination. No phone map. Just the cold air and the sound of his own footsteps.
Denis crumpled the paper. Then he uncrumpled it. He walked to the window and looked down at the city—the bright signs, the honking cars, the thousands of lives rushing past each other without touching.
Silence. One friend scrolled his phone. Another bit into a sandwich. The glass wall grew thicker.
The Glass Wall
He grabbed his jacket.
A modern Tirana apartment, 2024. Outside, the city buzzes with new cars, coffee shops, and fast Wi-Fi. Inside, 15-year-old Denis stares at his bedroom ceiling.
It started with a school assignment: read Beni Ecën Vete and write an essay. Denis opened the PDF with a sigh. Old book. Communist times. Boring. Kuptimi I Lektyres Beni Ecen Vete
He tried to talk to his friends. "Do you ever feel like we're just following a script?" he asked at lunch.
Then he read the first page.
That night, Denis wrote his essay. Not the five-paragraph structure his teacher wanted. He wrote: Beni walked alone because the crowd was a cage. I have no communist party telling me where to work. I have my parents' dreams, my school's rankings, my phone's notifications. I am surrounded by people and empty. Beni and I are the same. The system just changed its uniform. He stepped outside
They laughed. "Bro, you've been reading too much."
The next day, he looked at his own life. His parents had scheduled his entire week: tutoring Monday, piano Wednesday, coding Saturday. His friends laughed at the same TikTok memes, wore the same sneakers, and avoided any conversation deeper than "What's your rank in that game?" At dinner, his father asked, "Grades good?" His mother asked, "Eaten well?" No one asked, "What did you feel today?"
Denis tried to walk alone.
But the trophy was cracking.