The sun never sets in this city. Light clings to the horizon like a jealous King gripping his crown as he banishes every illegal glimmer, each gratuitous glow. It is a sky radiance raped and bright abandoned; dark, empty, no longer alight. Here, stars are fallen knights imprisoned by street lamps and concrete walls cocooned in expired posters and stale graffiti. There are no sparkling sapphire nights, no constellations to connect the images of childhood dreams birthed on Islands; only a dull orange haze hanging low in the distance and a lot of people who never look up because there’s nothing to see. It is a place where new faces, like mine, go as unnoticed as a misplaced moon.