Elbow to elbow and tension, fear. It's almost as if fear is shifted from one person to the next through something as simple as elbows, tightly pressed together, but moving somehow in spite of everything. Everything you might think of as everything. All your everything thoughts.
Nobody looks skyward, where the smog and smoke and early morning hides the clouds, anything else that could be moving across the city. But it's nice to imagine.
Imagine a bluebird skirting across the lighter blue sky. Dipping here and there. Think of how you are the only person who sees this, and what it makes you feel. But don't say anything to anyone. Keep that revelation to yourself. That peace. Be selfish.
Everyone else is. Everyone. Oh no? Look around, listen. Really listen.
They've learned not to care, they know the city itself cannot feel fear. They are caught up in giving theirs to others, and the hidden sun is unreachable.