Suburbs in the evening:
	Sodium yellow glints on wet concrete
	And nobody smiles.


I've always found suburbia faintly depressing, but a drizzly evening
certainly brings out the worst. Rows of identical houses, the colours
of the pavements, gardens, and walls all drained to the same dark
greys by the rain, the darkness, and the glare of street
lighting. Nobody is out in the gardens, and the few people walking the
streets are hurrying home, huddled in their wet coats. And somehow,
the warmth and life of the families within makes it all the worse;
that inviting friendliness is there, just the thickness of a
soullessly identical locked front door away.