The low impact tremors of the trucks and trains and machinery of the city rumble through the day, long into the latest hour.

The reverberations of what we've done stretch back before the boom of the roaring twenties, when the steel skeletons of the new giants were born, passed the wailing of falling bombs, long into the future where masonry and glass fall slow miles to deserted streets.

This living, breathing, churning machine has a life of its own, its own fears, its own dreams, and without it, what are we?