There's nothing unusual happening in the background: cars driving by, snippets of conversations as people pass by. It's not so late that the streets are empty, less busy than peak working hours, but there are still people around.

Dal leans back against the window behind him and closes his eyes, sighing heavily. Gabriel's talking, wants him to keep talking. It's difficult when he feels so tired. It's like everything feels heavy, even thoughts.

"Flowers," he finally answers. A few apartments on his block have flower boxes and now that spring's arrived, their plants have bloomed. "Neighbors have flowers." Wait, was that English? No, probably not so he repeated himself just in case.