On the streets…
Hans moved out of the way, barely evading a passing moped, then, he was pushed the other way by a passing old lady, who looked at him sighing.
The streets were bustling with life and action, and the pavement of the roads was made out of little cobblestones, however, they weren't like the usual, because at least a third of the stones that made up the ground had come out of their supposed spot, and, or were partially broken.
People were as stuck as sardines in their boxes, and being able to move was a luxury.
The streets between the buildings became as tight as three meters wide, and yet the locals still found ways to sneak some stalls or a couple of tables for their restaurant in the streets.
It was chaotic, even more than the night market, but most people, whatever their attire, their humor, and their lives, wore tranquil and happy emotions on their faces.
He was in… Naples… the pickpocketers' heaven.
