Fingers graze along the dusted black and white ivory, simultaneously striking and filling the dusked city streets with an orange luminescence. The electricity sparks in the optimistic voice of a guitar and the lamps hum low but confidently in agreement, as the rat-a-tat-tat of drums approaches from further down the way. Someone starts to sing; a schoolboy- no- a pickpocket; left alone to wander the darkening, citrus, stone paths.

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