I walked behind these four for a good few hundred yards across the square. It felt like the second pair’s pace was swaying in and out of phase with that of the first; sometimes they were close enough that they might be just two parts of the same patrol, and sometimes the distance between them was great enough that perhaps in fact they’d merely chanced upon each other — as though despite their ongoing efforts to declare their independence, the complex interplay of their orbital wakes held them eternally tied in some arcane gravitational pavane.
Intersection of Trg Republike and Knjaz Mihailova, Beograd, Srbija
