Deep in these shadow streets runs a way set away from sun. A bridge, then a waterway, we wander along the banks. Along the edge of midnight into a city lost, unknown to now. We walk swift and quiet, take it in, in one stride we are out through the other side. Now well past one, the 13th hour.
You gotta wonder as we wander, and let the thoughts free themselves loose on a limb balanced over a notion of where the night air flows. The streets not known, the city fresh, and you never really know what is around that next corner.
We push on until quadrants and angles and buildings and land marks and the way the sidewalk runs over there become a bit more familiar.
Then you know where you are, in the general sense of the notion, until the notion gets lost. We always know the general way back, if back is something you even want to bother to do. It just might take an hour or eight to completely back track depending on the size of the unknown we are wandering.