"Have you ever been to Cobra City before?", he asks.
She shakes her head. "Would you tell me about Cobra City?"
And he does. He talks about his city which he both hates and loves, this place of dualities. Beautiful and ugly, ostentatious and reserved; stinking canals at one, colourful neon storms at the other side. Skyscrapers that are built higher and higher. Billboards, huge and promising. Downpours that would wash up all the trash and dirt to the surface; jammed streets, stifling air, masses of people who'd squeeze themselves past all those countless food stands, bargaining with black market sellers or calling one of the dozen taxis. Giant malls with air-conditioned stores and affiliated banks while outside crippled beggars huddle against the building facade. And right in the middle of this urban modernity, there are the many temples, splendid and magnificent, frozen in time.
She listens. And senses an immense feeling of home within her heart as Cobra City comes to life through his voice.