Blue and white lights suspended in the black silhouettes of the trees. You can't see the joins, the strings so it's possible to suspend disbelief and believe in these lights as a three piece combo busk away in the subway. A rolling drum, trumpet and guitar. They wear boiler suits and hats and it's impossible not to smile. At the subway's mouth the smell of something rich, velvety and sweet sold by a vendor who says a single syllable word I can't catch that hangs in the air like the crunching of a shoe in snow. A step leads up away from the path where a young man with scared eyes shivers in a blue sleeping bag and asks for change. A white boat glides up the river, its windows pulsing with purple and red light. Silhouettes of people dancing.
The black lightning scars the wall, tumbles like a khaki camouflaged waterfall.