Unions and Reunions.

Harmony City, my home. I could hear the noise half an hour before we entered the city. The sound of people screaming and singing, and laughing. The sound of vehicles honking, motorbikes speeding and people angrily cursing one another's forebears. The sounds of babies crying, mothers screaming at their children to be careful, and fathers scolding their stubborn children. Sirens of police cars and ambulances rose in the air, those never stop for a well-known reason, a city with its total violent crime rate at 479.7. The police and the ambulances work round the clock, with the latter so corrupt it does not make any real difference. The loud sounds of men arguing, women gossiping, all mixed up to create the chaotic atmosphere of this dirty metropolis. 

Unlike the smell of fresh air that I enjoyed during my stay in Zarratown, the smell in Harmony City was different too. I was greeted by the familiar smell of sweat mixed with maquillage and all sorts of body lotions and creams