The grey pylons blink with blood red lights. The towers of lights, the skyscrapers are piling in the distance. The whole world seems to consist of the shimmering spots that are shining rectangles of artificial light.
And only the sky remains silent. Only there the darkness is laid out like a thick blanket of ink spilled on the surface of a smooth desk.
The stars are missing in the city, devoured by the power plant of the man.