Yrael sits back, comfortably, smiling as she watches her friends watch the city move around them.
There are everywhere people talking, friends laughing, occasional strangers passing smiles to one another with a wry sense of bonhomie. The night is permeated with music: Jazz from the street corners and hole-in-the-wall bars, snatches of the deep bass pounding of dance music heard each time the doors of one of the larger, neon-lit clubs open. Calls of sellers in the French Market can be heard, selling fresh fish and foods and goods, both local and from every point of the globe. The aromas on the air are of sharp, dark-roasted coffee, of frying dough and carmelizing sugar, of slow-cooked rice, beans, spices and hot-pepper sausage from the cajun restaurant across the way, of people. The city is very much alive, and the not'cat smiles.
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Date: 2010-01-10 05:44 pm (UTC)From:There are everywhere people talking, friends laughing, occasional strangers passing smiles to one another with a wry sense of bonhomie. The night is permeated with music: Jazz from the street corners and hole-in-the-wall bars, snatches of the deep bass pounding of dance music heard each time the doors of one of the larger, neon-lit clubs open. Calls of sellers in the French Market can be heard, selling fresh fish and foods and goods, both local and from every point of the globe. The aromas on the air are of sharp, dark-roasted coffee, of frying dough and carmelizing sugar, of slow-cooked rice, beans, spices and hot-pepper sausage from the cajun restaurant across the way, of people. The city is very much alive, and the not'cat smiles.
"How do you like my city, my friends?"