I began to notice how quiet my mind was when I didn’t look at the screens the first few minutes almost peaceful then the anxiety creeping in like static what if something moved without me what if I missed the next swing the next signal the next reason to exist because for decades that’s what the market had been my clock my mirror my god I measured myself in ticks and trades and when I stopped even for a breath I could feel the emptiness underneath like a basement no one had cleaned in years

The firm had changed names again mergers buyouts reshuffles no one stayed long enough to remember who built what anymore my title now sounded important but meant nothing I supervised systems that supervised themselves an overseer of ghosts my reports were algorithms my meetings were dashboards I told my boss once I felt obsolete he smiled said experience never goes out of style but he said it the way people talk about antiques polite admiration with no intention to buy

One morning I watched the sunrise over the river pink light spilling between towers each one a monument to a different decade of greed I’d lived through them all the eighties steel and cocaine the nineties glitter and wires the two thousands bricks and bubbles and somewhere in between I’d traded away years for numbers that never loved me back

Julia called that day said she was back in the city for a semester guest teaching asked if I wanted coffee I said yes immediately before doubt could rewrite the answer she looked the same and different softer around the eyes slower in speech like someone who had made peace with time we talked about ordinary things the weather her students my health she asked if I still traded I said I still worked she smiled said that wasn’t the same thing and I didn’t argue because she was right

We walked through Central Park bare trees branches black against gray sky she said she’d been reading my old emails the ones from Tokyo the early years said I sounded alive back then I said I was younger she said no you were hungrier there’s a difference she asked if I’d ever thought about what all of it meant all those years all those cycles I said sometimes she said and what do you find I said silence

That night I sat at home staring at the old notebooks I’d kept numbers scribbled margins filled with half thoughts bits of philosophy written between trades things like greed is memory fear is future survival is math I read them as if someone else had written them the handwriting younger steadier full of belief I closed them gently and put them in a drawer like burying an old friend

The next day I went to work and did something strange I didn’t log in I just walked the floor watched the young ones bent over screens the glow on their faces holy light of algorithms humming like prayers the rhythm too fast for heartbeats I felt invisible among them a relic wandering through a digital cathedral

My manager stopped me asked if everything was okay I said yes just thinking he said don’t think too long markets don’t wait I smiled said maybe they should he laughed but looked uneasy like he’d heard a language he didn’t understand

When I got home that night I found an envelope under my door no name just a note inside you once said you’d know when it’s too late it isn’t yet I knew it was from Julia her handwriting small precise it felt like permission I sat there holding it until the city lights came on one by one and something inside me finally loosened

The next morning I emailed HR told them I was resigning effective immediately no explanations no speeches just a single line thank you for the years the reply came fast auto generated polite efficient like everything else

I walked out of the building carrying nothing but my coat the lobby smelled of polished steel and recycled air the same scent that had followed me across decades I stepped outside into the wind the noise of traffic real not digital the weight of the world returning to its normal gravity

I didn’t feel free not yet maybe not ever but I felt present which was new I walked without direction through the city I’d watched rise and fall so many times past towers that looked like memories in disguise and for the first time I didn’t wonder what the markets were doing I didn’t need to know

That night I stood by the river again same spot as always the water black and slow the reflections trembling like breath I thought about my father about Carter about Leon about all the people who came and went through the great machine about Julia’s note and the years it took to read it

Maybe quitting isn’t the opposite of losing maybe it’s just another kind of trade giving up the illusion of control in exchange for something quieter something that might one day feel like peace

The city lights flickered on the current and I stayed there until dawn watching them fade into the first light of another market day that for once didn’t belong to me