Lazy City

The city is lazy at 11 am this Sunday. It exhausted all its energy the night before. All lights off. Tall buildings grey and dull, as glitz and reflections no longer disguise their worn-out and dusty surfaces. Cars move not exactly fast in the quiet streets. Few walk on the sidewalks, neither hastily nor leisurely, just like a normal dream leaving the night. Lovers asleep, windows shut off against the eastern blaze. Lovers afloat above the ordinary’s wildest imagination. Lovers depart under the thick city air. Hotels, appartment buildings: each rectangular unit a container of a different story. Will each escape to walk the park? There seems to be such a lazy distance.

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