The city was so quiet today. Even the unrelentingly harsh and penetrating noises from the construction sites were oddly hushed as the workers went about their building of things. The sunlight, usually persistant and blinding, merely filled the places where the shade of the buildings was not, and even then, it was softly golden, and filtered by the trees that lined the streets, dappling the road with a glittering field of faerie lights. A wind, whispering and vague, pushed at the buildings and at the few people who wandered the paths, strolling rather than walking. Once in a while, a beam of sunlight bounced off a lone car, and danced into the eyes of a street cleaner, bowed at the neck and venerable, as she poked at pieces of rubbish with her dustpan and broom, not seeming to mind whether she was having any effect on them at all.