Random faces..more like random feet that would leave a minimalist impression on the street..white meets black..enemies..friends..passing the same row of houses..sharing the same view…taking in the city of the rainbow homes.
Still walking …crossing abandoned intersections..under lonely traffic lights; traffic lights craving the smell of gas, craving the honk of cars, the pulse of the city. A city in a form of clinical death this night.
Streets craving the pulse of the city.
The life of the morning…needed at night.