The view from the window is dark. Lights are scattered here and there like a blanket over the city. I don’t know what the blanket hides but these days I’m just happy its there. When you’ve seen enough of a city’s dark secrets you don’t mind closing your eyes or turning your head or even just pretending it’s not really there.

Off in the distance, along some connector or causeway attached to a bridge attached to an even longer road up a steep hill, lights line the side of the road while headlights roll endlessly between them toward me.

In olden times you’d hear tales told of giant fire worms that came in the night and devoured everything in their path. Those who saw it coming would run and live to tell, and those who didn’t would perish. Maybe this is just like those fire worms.

In one sense they do destroy things in their path, and likely carry misery with them. The only thing is: this is just another day in the city.

The city lives on, the people living there are easily replaced. For now.