It was 12A.M. As I strolled at night, I felt loneliness and dettachment.

 

There was no one on the streets; the only presence I felt came from lit windows of houses.

 

The bus stops that were normally crowded were now empty, decorated only with rainwater and bits of trash left behind to remind me that people roamed the streets.

Street lamps forgotten in daytime, appeared too glaring and blinding in the dark. They were made to lit, yet as I stared into them, they seemed to obscure my vision of the scene around me; no longer guiding but distracting.

 

This is a land that is desolate, almost surreal.