The PDF was short, but dense. It offered a "System" not as a rigid cage, but as a trellis. A structure for the wild vines of his thoughts to climb on.
The rain was drumming a relentless, rhythmic beat against the window of the coffee shop, the kind of weather that makes you want to either run home or finally do the work you’ve been avoiding. Elias was doing the latter, or trying to. His laptop screen was a graveyard of half-finished paragraphs. His cursor blinked, a steady, mocking pulse.