The beauty of the streets, the old days, add to the story.

In the afternoon, on the streets of Neon, a few fine-dressed women came together, and they looked beautifully, and they walked in the corner, and they suddenly slowed down, and one of them stopped and looked at the man who smoked on the side of the road, the most distant colleague in her world of work, and at the moment, she frowned as she approached her, and she pulled her hand close, she pulled her collar, she pulled her finger over him, she opened her mouth, and she smiled, and she put her back on his chest, and her palms were thick, and the neon lights were on her eyes, and she asked if he remembered the silence in the elevator that night.