saigon after dark

Eyes mark the shape of the city through the eyes of a high-flying night bird, we take in the scene from midair. In our broad sweep, the take in the city looks like a single gigantic creature, or more like a single collective entity created by many interwining organisms. Countless arteries stretch to the end of its elusive body, circulating a continuos supply of fresh blood, sending out new consumables and collecting the old, to the rhythm of its pulsing, all parts of the body folker and flare up and squirm. Midnight is approaching, and while the peak of activity has passed, the basal metabolism that maintains life continues undiminished, producing the basso continuo of the city's moan, a monotonous sound that neither rise nor falls but is pregnant with foreboding...

Haruki Murakami - After Dark, and Saigon