It's a beautiful night, a midsummer night, expected to be hot but no, 20 degrees, west light wind, humidity high dripping your bones, softly touching like the mouse bitting your ears when deep sleep paralyzed your body. QUIET NIGHT, not so, trucks and cars running on Foreshore road crossing the Southern Cross drive, noisy echoes as engines giving its night road race, annoying and disrupting the whole silence. The City never sleeps, neither the tenants of its, like a small army of ants trying to build to transfer to move with or without purpose and willingness, just because follow the orders, b… Читать далее