On Rentrischer Straße, a slow siren escalates, like that of an air raid signal. Bells join the call, ringing wildly. A dog barks furiously in annoyance. The sound fills the streets nearby, drowning out the hum of traffic. Should I flee? No one on the street seems perturbed. The siren sounds four or five times, the bells keep ringing pell-mell for 3 minutes, until the last one finally fades away. What has happened? I think it’s… lunchtime?

Saint George slays the dragon on a church’s clocktower near the townhall. The heat of the day has passed but the evening is still warm, so hundreds of people sit outside on the cafe patios, enjoying their beers. A warm red glow emanates from four wide, low windows on the street corner. Smoking a cigarette, a curvaceous woman lounges over luxurious red and purple pillows, her breasts spilling out onto the windowsill from her lacy black bra. She knows we are not her clients, so she pays us no mind. Others sit on a stoop nearby. Their dress (insofar as they can be considered dressed) is designed to show off as much of their bodies as possible given the temperature outside. I find this to be an interesting fixture in this neighbourhood, as it makes a curious juxtaposition with the churches nearby.


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