A man journeys a long way by foot to reach a great city. Upon his long-awaited arrival, he is immediately stunned by the lights, motion and vibrancy of the city during the night. It is as if the city were alive, breathing, listening to its inhabitants laugh and cheer with a pulsating heartbeat that sounded off of the train tracks which surrounded its borders and connected through its body like veins. Truly a sight to behold. He journeyed forth into the start of a new life, eager to make the most of his time here.

How do you think the city actually is. Is it right to assume that the man will enjoy his time in the city? Why?

After many years living in the midst of the neon lights, sirens of the law, busy streets and angry mobs, he had become tired of life in what once seemed like the greatest city in the world. What seemed to live in it’s greatness was not but a mere annoyance to his sleep. The harsh realisation that the city was not all it seemed to be from afar and what he had read hit him hard over the years. He packed his suitcase, journeyed out back to his homeland to leave behind the memories of the living city, never to regret his decision again.

What happened over the years he was there? How does this correlate with what he should have done in the first place?