Starting off...

Her monochrome clicks paint a strange picture. Morbid would be the word maybe. Its much like blood drained out of an old injury but the scars remaining in plain sight. All bare bones in exhibition. Much like his city..A careless congestion of self imposing materialism. He sees it all. A silent observer. He goes back to his M to pour it all over.. puke in her ears.
He sees how her clicks bring out his inner self..the blurry carriage ride..or the maze of lights mazing in its doped out trips..too mazed to realize when it started mazing. Its strange the way she reaches out without even trying to reach out. He knows not if she does it willfully or if it just sweats out of her without a damn notice.
Frankly, it doesnt really matter. There comes a point of time in each person's life when knowingly or unknowingly she does something she had never planned yet when it pans out, it all seems planned.. she doesnt know what THE PLAN is. He doesnt remember having elaborately discussed it with her. But there is a plan, there always was..Chalking out destinies of millions. Only too big in magnitude to ever get noticed..
Much like the one part of it that brought him this close to M.

P.S.- I'd thought the first post should be about me.Who I am and all that boredom..Frankly I din't remember..Next time maybe..cheers