notes from the outer world.

10pm again. A small motorcycle's racing through the street, leaving behind a screeching, loud noise that slowly fades with the wheels disappearing further in the city. Below on the sidewalk, someone has aligned a whole crowd of electric scooters, green lights like static fireflies just inches above cold concrete ground. Means of finding and taking paths, but no travellers nearby. (What remains: Yawning, stretching, clutching to the day, tired and uneasy and still somehow feeling like having passed that point where sleep's a likely option. Still worth a try, again, though.)

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