The morning cast in sounds of thunder, a spectrum of grey hanging with threat and promise above narrowing horizons, paling only with the sporadic illumination of lightning, flashing sheets casting the rising concrete into solidity. Outside the windless air wears a heavy cloak of humidity, the drills silenced as workers shelter beneath the concrete of the mrt line sheets of water dripping from gaps, pedestrians weaving beneath umbrellas, drained of colour as they pass below.

In the city the dance continues, a complex choreography of masked crowds spotlit by the midday glare of passing headlights, heated air growing heavier in the rising warmth of the hidden sun. And then it's gone, steam rising from pavements, grey paling into white as the condensed solidity of the sky breaks into fragments of pallid blue, watery shadows forming beneath feet. Today feels odd again, not quite in focus, glimpses of hills weighed down by clouds sweeping south upon a warm wind.

Late afternoon the skies darken once again, nightfall an hour before sunset, the rain exploding upwards from the sheen of water flowing across the surface of the roads, shadowy figures beneath umbrellas rushing towards home while, scattered upon pavement and gutters, braziers burn with fragile flames...


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PgE1KAfFAMc