The Lonely Street

The street is quiet, and seems like it is dead. The sounds I can hear are the leaves rustling in the breeze, and the pitter-patter sounds of raindrops falling on the ground. Together, they compose a brilliant song of nature. No din from the high-school students, no irritating noise from the car. No one, not even a soul dares to make a sound to disturb this moment. Everything is silent, as if it isn’t even alive, just like a ghost street that only emerges in the mid-night and will vanish when the first sunlight strikes down from the sky. Wet dirt mixes with the smells of perfumes that left behind by people suffuse the air. Making me think of the mixture of sodas and expired apple juices.

The silver moon suspends in the velvet sky, glowing dimly. Moonlight travels through the yellowish leaves and sheds on the land. I see the obscure, indistinct shadows of the trees are swaying on the floor letting me have the illusion of thousands of devils dancing slyly in the night, planning some evil trick. The hazy mist surrounds the street making it more mysterious and attractive, and the bright...