A street in a post-industrial neighborhood in the middle of the night
Francis walks down an old street in a living block in the middle of a quiet restful night. The street doesn’t turn and seemingly doesn’t lead anywhere. Just an endless road with the same three flat buildings on each side repeating over and over. Only very distand sounds of motor egines and trash cans falling over breaks the silence from time to time. The smell of rain is filling the air with its fuddling nature. Moonlight is shining its silver light on the wet asphalt making it look like its covered in natural glitter. The shadows of the buildings cover whatever land they can with such thick cover that it’s hard to see through it. A plastic bag is flying above the glittering road until it gets stuck on a light post, unable to escape. Wind is dragging the cold night air across open skin almost hurting it, making Francis cover his face in the collar of his coat even more. Grey clouds lazily move across the sky after storm, occasionally blocking moons light and leaving their soft shadow on the ground that makes light and dark one in the same.