Dreaming in a city

by Christos Polydorou

Silence in a city is never fully silent. What can one expect in a city of over eight million? is a very good point, but I didn’t expect moving to a city would include me having to host all those eight million people in my living room, at all times. I exaggerate, of course, if only to make a point: the one in the opening line. Open your window late at night and up and away from the whirring of your laptop fan is the sighing of cars on highways miles away you can hear almost crisply, or motorcycles whose engine has been tampered with, or sirens, or even an aeroplane overhead. If this is what defines a city, machines, then I am definitely in a city. See? I compulsively join the activity, one last time, before I put this Monday, and myself, to sleep, to dream, in this imperfect city, of the other, perfect city, I visited for a brief moment, or a lifetime.

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