The strong scent of the mediteranian cuts through the smokey exhaust haze.
the blaring horns mingle with the arabic from the street below.
an angry woman walks below on the foot path, ranting as an unseen recepient.
the encroaching evening hungrily swallows the last remaining regular whisps of the day.
drink more piss you bastards I yell from the 9th floor balcony.
my voice, lost in a cacaphony of sounds heard by know one.
alexandra does not respond
and carries on as before as it always will
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