Never-ending

As the night winds down, the city follows along with it. Roaring of engines by the roadside slows to a low rumble. A solo motorcycle groans in the distance. The wind whispers its quiet tune, only to be interrupted by the the songs of cicadas. The sun has set but the streets are glowing with their own night lights.

The city is quiet, but the sun is rising halfway across the world.

The silence is broken by the waking of the day. Birds are chirping because they made it through the night. Lights are turning back on and cities begin roaring their engines. Soon enough crowds flow in and it was like night had never even passed. The momentary quiet get lost beneath the work and urgency. There is no time for quiet when all you have are deadlines.