Published:
A Flicker of Dawn in the Midnight Rain -
It had been a strange, wonderful time with Hilda and Meech. They’d found me in the gray hours of morning, crumpled and exhausted in an alley after yet another near-miss escape from a vampiress. How they tracked me down, I couldn’t say, this life of mine, tangled with Dystopia, had long left the realm of rational explanation. I’d stopped questioning it; pondering it too deeply could turn a sane mind to mush. Yet there they were, Hilda and Meech, a reminder that there were still people who held onto hope, who kept my own flickering faith alive.
We hit the pubs, late-night clubs and other interesting locations around my hometown, savoring the warmth of dimly lit rooms and conversation that danced between philosophy and trivialities, laughter filling the gaps. By the time we parted, I asked them to drop me off at my favorite Irish pub, where, surprisingly, the lights still shone against the dark, rain-soaked streets. Meech and Hilda didn’t ask questions—they’d long since grown accustomed to my oddities. “Bicho Raro,” they called me with a smile, an endearing term for someone like me, a “strange creature.”
As I watched their taillights fade, I waved them off, but a part of me lingered, wishing Meech had given me just a little time alone with Hilda. Maybe we could have picked up that conversation from before, the one that began when the beautiful blonde visited unexpectedly. But now it was just me, alone in the rain.
In the distance, a hint of dawn crept over the horizon, blending with the soft patter of raindrops and the dim pub lights. The world was stirring, and I was standing here, still halfway between dreams and reality.
Fooocus_KSamplerEfficient-seed
593067200807741
PROMPT
cinematic photography, full body shot of sharp focus of medium, Visualize a melancholy, cinematic night scene set in a rain-soaked, deserted street. Tom, weary and disheveled, stands outside a warmly lit Irish pub, its golden glow contrasting with the surrounding darkness. Drops of rain fall softly, blending into the early morning fog. Faint taillights from Hilda and Meech’s departing car disappear into the distance, leaving Tom alone in bittersweet solitude. He watches them fade with a wistful expression, as a faint, early dawn begins to lighten the horizon. The pub's dim interior light spills out through rain-specked windows, inviting yet hauntingly empty, reflecting Tom’s deep inner conflict. He’s caught in a space between dream and reality, clinging to a fading moment of human connection against the quiet hum of a dystopian world, Tom, a german man, has spiky short middle blonde hair, wears a purple elegent shirt, blue eyes, wears a black elegegant trouser,
resolution
3:2 landscape 1216x832
width - if set to custom
1024
height - if set to custom
1024
Fooocus_KSamplerEfficient-scheduler
beta
Fooocus_KSamplerEfficient-steps
25
