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3:09 am.

Silent, deserted streets. Neon signs flickering afar. Cold and piercing wind that scalpels through my limbs. Occasional shrieks from drunk people.

The icy floor of a small, dusty corner. Lifeless buildings, dying stores. Expressionless mannequins, welcoming and yet repelling. Shutters down, all connections lost.

Passers-by are lost in a rerun of the presidential debate, which enfolds them in an illusion of togetherness-in-present. But apathy prevails, and they walk on towards nothingness, sick of pretending to care about something they just don’t.

A tragic beauty that stinks of humanness. All too human, all too human.