Chapter 15

• The crowd has a life of its own, the vibrant clothes shine in the morning light and the people move like enchanting shoals of fish. There is chatter between sellers and buyers, old friends catching up, and new friends made. It's busy for sure, but the hustle and bustle brings life to this city one wouldn't want to be without.
• Each person in the crowd moves as if unseeing hands drag them this way and that, pulling their eyes to one thing and then another. They respond in predictable ways, each of them with a goal to achieve for the day. But underneath that is free will, the ability to truly choose their own path. Sometimes one engages them in a conversation just to wake up the part of themselves that is capable of taking charge, making choices. Then they're off, back on auto-pilot, the most dangerous mode a human being can slip into.
• In that place one could be anyone, or perhaps no-one at all. The people flowed like rivers, never stopping for obstacles but swirling around them. On those wide avenues with wilted trees, their leaves curled and blackened in the August heat, the buildings towered on each side. A hundred years ago it was pretty, the golden light on the sandstone architecture, built in the days when curves and design weren't considered superfluous. Even the street-lamps were dreamt of by an artist, and built by an engineer following the teachings of a scientist.