The buildings blink, sharply-lit faces illuminated with striking warm lights. The darkness, full of smoke; dirty streets, gaping holes of the empty houses, the huge bureaus, made of steel and stone, tired silhouettes of the late workers, the blue gleam in huge rooms – tiny enclaves of peace in the hungry night.

This is my city.

I woke up here, long ago, to be a shadow that devours the blood that beats in its veins.

I breathe with the traffic, laughing in the hazy midnight glory.

Everything changed when the S T O R M came. Only me and her, standing against the downpour. Uproaring, it rages above our heads.

The city still inhales the waste, oblivious against the world’s flounce. I touch her arm when she appears, and we drift into nothingness, together.

We want to believe that this is not the end. That we are not the end…

but, now…

… b e o n e w i t h m e…

While the night melts around us.

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