The sun rose over the city, casting long shadows on the empty streets. Harry, a real estate agent with a face etched by years of negotiations and city smog, leaned against the door of his office, sipping black coffee from a chipped mug.

The phone on his desk rang, breaking the morning silence. A potential buyer, eager and naive, inquired about a downtown loft. Harry, with the practiced ease of a man who had walked through countless empty rooms, set up a meeting.

The day unfolded in a series of clipped conversations, punctuated by the staccato of high heels on polished floors. Harry navigated the city’s grid, a modern-day conquistador armed with glossy brochures and the charm of a poker-faced gambler.

His first showing was a penthouse, all glass and steel. The client, a woman with a briefcase and a calculating gaze, listened as Harry extolled the virtues of urban living. He spoke in measured tones, his words chosen like cards from a deck, revealing only what was necessary.

The negotiations were swift, conducted in a minimalist office overlooking the city’s sprawl. Harry’s pen danced on the contract, and signatures were exchanged like secret handshakes between men of the world.

The afternoon sun warmed the streets as Harry moved to his next battleground – a historic brownstone, worn by time but oozing character. His client, a young couple with dreams as big as the mortgage they were about to sign, clutched each other’s hands. Harry, the orchestrator of dreams and dealer of square footage, spoke of hardwood floors and original fireplaces.

As twilight settled over the city, Harry found himself in a dimly lit bar, nursing a whiskey. The day had been a series of wins and losses, each handshake leaving an imprint on his memory. The bartender, a grizzled man who understood the weight of words unspoken, poured another glass.

In the solitude of the bar, Harry reflected on the city that never slept and the people who dreamed within its walls. His own dreams were simpler – a commission check, a satisfied client, and the promise of another day, much like this one, waiting on the horizon.

The night wrapped around the city like a shroud, and Harry, the weary real estate agent, stepped back into the darkness. The streets were no longer empty; they whispered with the stories of deals made and dreams sold. And so, under the glow of streetlights, Harry disappeared into the urban landscape, ready to do it all again tomorrow.

To be continued…