Sunset comes hastily before volumes of traffic in the road of you-and-me fist- fights of chaos where we fight pitched night battles in a war such as in the confused Peloponnesian war .

In the car the chilly radio is hot on film heroes in scraps of badly accented gags like ones driver man will enjoy and you sure say no. Our drivers have eclectic tastes in film music where everyone seems to flow as if yesterday. This sun comes in their eyes like a dust particle.

The driver makes noises from his nose to the road. His mobile phone rings to come home before sun. My monument must already be in its russet hues.Many cars and traffic policemen are in between. My sun has already sunk to the depths of belly.


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