There are streets that are just slices of cement, cold and inexpressive.
Cold slices that serve only for what they have been created for.
And there are some kind of tiny, almost in-a-maze streets, like this one.
Streets that have their stories, even inviting you to create your own one which to be to be imbued in one of it’s dusty pebbles.
Something intriguing though, because, although so tight, no claustrophobic feeling when passing this one.
Shadowed fortress-type windows here and there, complementing the mood.
Maybe the atmosphere was not so ordinary, just like the walls from each side exhaled a vintage air, some kind of stillness.
You could almost feel time standing still for a while.
You could close your eyes and day dream, breath more, take long walks or just chill out a bit.
Just take your time.