Silence, as if the entire street was left for dust. The rain was steady at a noiseless drizzle, the smell of deisel and unreasonably loud bass was on the verge of dying away. The easy-going feeling you get when you see the people walk down the street, guita cases bobbing on their shoulders. Almost all of the colorful light was absent, as shopkeepers one at a time flicked off their electric lights. Close up, it can be seen, the light reflecting off the glass slowly fading and beginning to become light shades of black. A gentle hum of the life found all around us buzzed, circling the still lit, dim, city lighting. A few straggling cars still passed this near forgotten road. and a few people, slouched as they walked, tired, on their way to do something of some sort.
Only just a trifle few hours before, the historic street was buzzing with activity. The smell of burnt popcorn and assorted fried foods graced the air. Once one such as you could actually see the street in its glory would be awestruck at the slimplicit beauty of the peeling, faded paint and old, crumbly buildings. Although to look behind this down point, one would find amazing sights that may invite memories to return and live again. People may take a walk down uneven sidewalks over to the greasy spoon, for a nice burger, or something that would surely destroy their cholesterol balance. Music plays from lone musicians, seeking to indulge others and their own ears with many a pleasing tune.
