Darlo

Sleepless city veins flowing underneath starless skies. Fair dinkum pubs, burger joints, gay bars, international take-aways, posh eateries, unyielding owls moving up and down the streets. Somebody asks for a cigarette, somebody else for a change. Some talk, some don't. Some sit, some lie, others walk or hang around. A fellow is readying his bunk on the steps of a bank. Lovers, friends, suits, hoodies, young or old, everybody's equal or pretending to be. Every mood, every thought, every feeling, all mixed and flavoured by babel of languages, spiced by every possible human race.

I like this place, possibly more than I wish to admit.