In early evening darkness, an endless entourage of engines sails streets exactly as Doppler predicted.

His trolley case traverses cracked concrete until her heels slow, halting to heed a busker's beat.

Polite soles approach the pair, sidestepping into loose layers of leaves - compacting gold and brown with a crunch.

Well-travelled tongues whisper foreign fears and wishes in a fog of white noise, fading to null as four eyes silently share three special words.