11pm and one hour closer than usual to dawn: Sound of a late lonely car cruising the neighbourhood, outbound. The bar's closing, some guests are about to find their way home, half asleep, half drunk. Todays last duties: Rescue that large lost moth that tries to make its way through these rooms, leaving behind an astoundingly scared cat. Beyond that point, all that remains is the dim light of invisible stars and the soft sound of darkness floating across old motionless roofs.