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Some things hadn't changed at all. The sun still came up every morning and set every night. It rained sometimes, though not much, and yet even that was normal, for this time of year. The nights were cool and the days were hot. Winds were light for the most part, and carried beautiful billowy white clouds across the sky, and although the air was crisp and clear, it also carried the occasional waft of decay.
That was one of the things that had changed, the lingering scent of human decay. There were no screeching tires or rumbling motorcycles. No high performance engines racing from traffic light to traffic light. No one leaning on his horn, and not a single siren blaring.
Nothing broke the peace and quiet of this late summer day. Ordinarily it would have seemed perfect, except for perhaps the odour and lack of songbirds. Oh yes, and no children screaming with excitement, either.
Truly, all the things that weren't, should have been.
The air should have a grey brown colour to it, and the sound of sirens should be incessant, only ranging in volume, depending on the distance. Engines should be roaring, horns should be sounding, and the sounds of brakes screeching should be making motorists cringe.
It was, after all, a work day in Canada's largest City.
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