Liora in the City of Endless Streets

The city unfolded like a map drawn by someone who refused to choose. Streets branched into streets; names repeated; landmarks echoed themselves.

Liora wandered for days. Each district felt complete, yet none explained the city as a whole. She learned quickly that asking for the route produced only shrugs.

One evening, exhausted, she stopped trying to understand the city globally. She entered a café. Ordered soup. Listened.

The city did not resolve—but it became liveable.

Later, when she left, she carried no map. Only a sense of rhythm: how long to walk before resting, when to turn, when not to ask for more than the street could give.

The city never closed. But it no longer overwhelmed.