Dusk Dusk in the city was her favourite time. She stared through the dirty glass of a taxi window, being washed away by the blurring lights and the twilight sky. She felt swallowed up by the city, and it comforted her. The bustle of people in coats: crossing streets, stepping into restaurants, shouting into mobile phones, greeting each other hello and goodbye. That moment right before the sun sets - that’s when a city is most exciting, most gulp-inducing; the air alive with the buzz of promise. ‘How many souls will connect over cavernous glasses of red wine in quiet piano bars tonight?’ she wondered. How many groups of friends will laugh until they cry, crammed in around a Formica table covered with fajitas & salt-rimmed margaritas? How many pairs of eyes will meet over the heads of sweaty dance-floor punters, eyebrows raised and winks exchanged, drinks bought & guzzled, electric touches conveyed between fingers…? Every day all over the city, people finish their days and begin their nights. The nights were what intrigued her most, though perhaps that was because she herself was holed up in a glass-walled office during the days. She dutifully responded to emails and attended meetings, but when she walked out of that big glassy building as the sun started to set and the sky was illuminated with the in-between blue of almost-night-time, that was when she felt most alive.