The sun burned its way down, silhouetting the city against a smeared lemon magenta sky

The whooshing sounds from vehicles on the streets below pulsed fast and slow with the change of traffic lights

Music. Sirens. Voices. The aural complexities of the city pureed into one heterogeneous thrum

Gustatory receptors come alive with the first touch of vodka, 7-up and lime across the tongue

The initial bite diminishes as the liquid soothes its way down my throat, prompting a sigh of satisfaction

A pair of gulls provides a show of aerobatics before scooting off to wherever gulls scoot at dusk

I lean my head back and follow a contrail across the darkening sky, like scratches on fresh paint

The colours change as the city blinks itself awake for night with pixels of yellow resembling defragmentation screens

Cautious stars sneak into the sky hiding among the lights from passing aircraft

The last of my drink sinks soothingly into my stomach and I close my eyes . . . remembering

We used to be two people enjoying summer nights such as this, murmuring softly and chuckling over comments made

Nothing has changed, the views, the sounds, the transformations, except now I experience them alone . . . alone that is but for my trusty vodka, 7-up and lime . . .

in a larger glass