As I waited on the bench for a bus back to the office, sated from lunch, I glanced up to the skyway crossing the street.
There were the people. Herds of them moving quickly in air-conditioned comfort, silent behind the glass panels.
Any other day their voices, cell phones and feet would add to the hum of the city, building up a richness of noise that tells you the place is lived in. Today, in their place, the humidity hangs dumb; unable to given even a ghost's whisper of the people that once lived here.