The city in the early morning was shrouded in a thin mist, the air fresh.
The roads by the street were slightly damp, and vehicles at the crossroads were all squeezed together beneath the traffic lights, the bus heaving with people like a can of sardines; the bike lane was lined with commuters pedaling their way to work, while delivery drones whizzed overhead.
The early spring streets scattered with cherry blossoms, petals illuminated to transparency by the sunlight, fluttered onto the heads of pedestrians like a shower of pink snow, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible fragrance.
