Bicycle

The sun has centered me into a fascinating glare, humble reason amongst simple people no to be misplaced. They carry a hidden regret, that constant abstraction makes them survive the unnamable decline, those empty sentences devoid of meaning. Here I come into the rain cast into a slander, clusters of tiny colorful figures hastily are crossing the road taking shelter of crumpled roofs ravaged, still living. Ahead, I catch a narrow way through the raucous roar of the bus a cavernous stomach packed with bruised stares, exhausted and silent. Never too far is the river hiding his incumbency behind the dilapidated architecture.