Centuries from now the footprints of the crowds will be gone and the sound of their shuffling footsteps long forgotten. The buildings will be razed, their ruins will bake in the sun.

A lone archaeologist sits and surveys the surroundings, contemplating how time destroys all. Over there a family takes but a brief tour, unmindful of history. Only the writer will come to access the past with his mind and with his heart, for the middle name of every writer is Memory.