we're hanging off streetcars that travel beneath buildings that are so tall, so so tall that we can no longer see the sky. all you see for miles above is stone and brick and steel, blocking out the sun and casting everything into shadow. in the streetcars are brilliant displays of color and light, laughter and celebration; it is a carnival on wheels and we're hanging off the ends trying to keep the impossible grip and slipping, constantly slipping down the red tin sides to catch glimpses of clowns and gypsies juggling rainbow-toned balloons. all the color is sent into terrifying contrast in the shade of the city, beneath the towering buildings that close in on the city like the roof of a cave, making every color deeper, more sinister but also more striking. i'm clinging to cables and corners, trying so hard not to fall beneath the wheels of this masquerade.