I can see that bright and rosy metallic light glancing along a morning street, making it hard to discern more than the passing shadows of people.

‘… we walked through the streets of a Barcelona trapped beneath ashen skies as dawn poured over Rambla de Santa Mónica in a wreath of liquid copper.’

Source: Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind, trans. Lucia Graves (London: Phoenix, 2012), p. 1

Photo credit: Josh Rose at unsplash.com

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