The night before Hope.

Salomi had always known he didn't have much time. Two years. That was the number the doctors gave him, and every day since that diagnosis had been a race against the clock. At first, the prospect of exploring the world-a dream he had since he was a child-had filled him with an urgent sense of purpose. He traveled across the globe, taking in the wonder of Paris, the silence of the Sahara Desert, the snow-capped peaks of the Swiss Alps. He saw breathtaking landscapes, met fascinating people, and lived a life that many would envy.
But after months of chasing sunsets,Salomi began to feel a quiet emptiness creeping in. The world was beautiful, yes, but it wasn't enough. No matter how many places he visited, no matter how many cities he explored, something was missing. There was no joy in it, on ly a hollow sense of duty. The awe he once felt had dulled, the excitement of new experiences faded into a kind of numbness. He had seen it all, felt it all, and still, it wasn't enough.
Salomi had begun to wonder if he had missed something vital. Was it the experiences themselves? Or was it the feeling that came with them? The rush of excitement, the connection to others, the joy of truly living. But he couldn't feel it anymore. He was chasing something he couldn't quite grasp-a sense of being alive that eluded him even as he lived out his wildest dreams.