There are about twenty people waiting at the intersection to cross. Some step out and begin to run as though there’s a rain-cloud over this part of the street and they don’t want to get any wetter than necessary. It almost seems routine to these people. Or at least that’s how it looks to Dragan. There are others who hover for a second and then run as fast as they can until they reach the other side. They make this brief frenetic dash and then keep walking as though nothing has happened.
