past bedtime.
london, 2.02 am.
It's way past your bedtime, the Big Ben almost seems to say as it clocks two past two in the morning. The sky is dark, but the city shines with lights and illumination, the streets vibrate with life - sex, drugs and rock & roll rule the night. The bars play loud music, the discotheques boom subtly with the sound of the beat, there are young people shouting and drinking, there are whores and there are sinners, saints and those with nowhere to go. Another beer, another shot, some alleys stink of sweat, some stink of things nobody wants to think about. London, five past two in the morning. Where are you?