Light

The first shaft of light broke over the horizon, igniting the border between earth and sky, and indirectly illuminating the city. Early morning joggers shielded their eyes against it, rendered a black silhouette against the morning sky. Rooms of houses, flats, offices, shops. Empty shells of broken bottles, marble arts of figures past, the forgotten window of a rented basement where somewhere below a small beaker of something unfortunate bubbled and roiled against the unexpected light. A smash against a hard stone floor, and a silent plume of its smoke drifting over the last dawn the city would now see.