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By vishal Date: 2011 Jan 11 Comment on this Work [[2011.01.11.04.35.12628]] |
| It was past three in the morning and very quiet. In his experience the city that doesn't sleep sometimes did, then the city went silent and took a breath and shiny darkness owned the streets. That was his time. He liked to picture the sleeping people stacked twelve, thirty, fifty storeys high, often head to head with perfect strangers on opposite sides of thin apartment walls, deep in slumber, unaware on the tall quiet man strolling beneath them in the shadows. Haunted by the memories of the ones in this city that he had loved and lost. |