Shibuya Nights

Sirens go off as the masses mingle in the crossing. The earth is shaking—or is it just the accumulation of collective vibrations of Shibuya. Sirens are followed by echoed silence. The suits continue the night dreaming, as the commute resumes in the metal pill that shoots them across the city’s peripheral veins. Unacquainted with this phenomenon, foreigners faint into rabbit holes, pulling up protocols and revised legislature. Rushing through a muted neighborhood, walking on a soft concrete road. To be struck by a bookshelf or a street pole—that’s an easy call.