Aug 31, 2018 · 1 min read
During the day, I wander these streets when they’re filled with countless people.
The dawn breaks and there’s not a soul but me.
That’s when the buildings speak to me. They tell me the secrets they hide from their dwellers.
That’s when the streets speak to me. They tell me the overheard tales of people that tread upon them.
That’s when the wind speaks to me. It brings me smells from the heavens on earth and unheard whispers in the breeze.
That’s when the sky speaks to me. It shows me infinite stories in the reflections on the puddles.
And all I can do is, take a picture and write about it.
