you can smell the old brick stones. so wet is the air that it clings to everything, bringing cold into every crevice of your clothing. was it this alley a right turn or have you lost the direction?
your thoughts are the only thing keeping you company in this street that would be busy and full of people at a more reasonable time.
but thats not now, and you are grateful for that. nobody understands you quiet as much as these empty streets do.