Echoes and the shadow of something faint moving underwater in the mottled riverbed. Rain showers on a distant town, a grey curtain bent in the wind. Fell swoons, jet black harbingers of dusk, the crowds amassing at nightfall, hawkers out with pretense. Mongers holding forth on street corners. Pedestrian clocks are ticking slowly on each and every, a yuletide traffic configuration throughout the city. Claybrick heat still and impenetrating. Pharaoh highbreds in spritzed fancy. Vague longing. Empty-eyed they noshing on sundries. Bloated bagfuls, all the spoils. Children importune. Back at old cottages what gathered moss as if pock gilt and hoary leaved banyans hung with pollen and soot from the chimneys. Therein, noon had the dull shape of all the neighbors pacing by the windows, and tall stalks of withered corn stood still, outside the blind testimony of heat bugs rung plain and shrill.