Circling 10pm again. Eventually, all clouds dissolved, Venus and Moon are getting closer again in pastel-coloured western skies, and there's a strange and utter calm in the thin, pale sickle. A motorbike engine roaring in the streets again, late bus passes through the stop, a couple of kids laughing and shouting in a voice heard by ears but at best understood by heart not mind. There's too many stories to be felt in unfamiliar words and their melodies and rhythms. (Close to night, and still we're awake.)