I checked the sky for sign of rain and set off early to make the most of the day. I had packed my bag with a fem necessity - a bite to eat, a bottle of water and heaps of curiosity about what the day would bring. I made my way down the vivacious street.
The street was glorious in its inception. The sidewalks were smooth grey stones, joined with such precision that the joins were almost invisible. The walls were concrete, but not like a villa in rural Spain; they were more akin to the construction of a modernist skyscraper, all sharp edges and corners. The buildings were nothing short of monoliths, the bastions of the city's pride, stamping its presence on the map of financially significant places to trade with.
Yet no-one had communicated this vision to the citizens. The street that should have been such a joy to walk was littered with garbage and excrement from dogs. Enjoying the street view would mean taking your eye off your shoes, and no-one was about to do that. I looked at the newspaper in my hand, September 9, 2001. My eyes flicked through the pages; nothing ever happens here I thought to myself. Oh well I have to get going, Steph is waiting for me.
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