Such wistful weather. The evening is washed out by the traces of the night. The city sighs. The collective emotions of a few hundred people, a few hundred tired faces, resonate in the traffic. Heads at windows peek out. Heads waiting for lovers, or kids. Heads that can take the city no more. Sputtering heads with colds.

When I look out and see the city reflected in passing cars,I see one face. We're all the same, right now. Stuck between our worlds.