6pm, heading on. In between hours, in between places. Leaving behind the hills, the village, an almost cloudless sunset and the hazy twilight of dusk. Diving into city lights again, the scent of concrete and railroads, the thinly populated squares, the old and weary houses along the outer roads. Memories of bus trips ages ago, missing the right music and experiencing these old emotions and perceptions running stale like old bleached photos. Weaving a new night out of old dreams.