The Sun is almost rising over the city. The fog is asleep, it lies in the cobbled streets and a cool breeze has taken its place, you can hardly notice it as it lightly strokes the thin branches of a young tree. There are clouds in the sky. The breeze becomes a strong gust that shakes semaphores, awnings and trees trunks. The hair, which before woke up slowly, are now so frantic that it is impossible to control them.