Walking through the town square when sober is too high on the senses.
Women twirling multicolored umbrellas in the dry night are convincing two Asian men to follow them to exotic dancers.
Through the fog, you hear opera. A woman on a bike is revealed, like a night vision, the sound of her voice trailing behind her.
Lights seep through the fog discovering a man being sick outside McDonalds and another lighting a fag like a beacon home.
An old beggar goes through trash remains looking for a treasure on a busy night whilst a couple huddle closely after a fight, the girl crying deeply, her sorrow piercing the crowd.
A group of Polish men walk loudly jeering at each other while the pub crawl crew follow a red flag through the night.
Young lovers kiss deeply walking into another passerby who falls and laughs.
Different languages are spoken and understood, as the drunken language becomes universal.
Green disco lights make a dotted pattern across the pavement, the bar they are coming from is busy with short skirts.
The two towers of the church are bright and peaceful in the sky but nothing else is peaceful about the city.
Life is everywhere and everyone.
A throng of people is dancing to deaf music.
I walk through them unseen, on my way to a warm bed in a cold night.


The Writer

I write stuff for fun, if it was for a living I would be homeless.

Find out more about me, Stefanie, here.


Travelling is like flirting with life. It’s like saying, ‘I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station.' Lisa St. Aubin de Teran