Quite alive and expressive. Black is really black and white is white.
I like the tractiveness of the patrons' gait, like actors staging an attack. Are they executioners, wolves hungry for revenge? Or soulless zombies?
There is action, theatrically unresolved.
Incidentally, ‘Luca’ is the name everyone calls me.
They converge to the light, like moths to a flame. The pretzel seller is the master, dishing out the good stuff, but only if you dare to approach the flame . which you may do on your own peril. Interesting how these night food booths are assaulted by people who probably have eaten their diner quite recently; once you see the light, Pavlovian conditioning starts to play havoc with our senses.
And yes, I had a pretzel myself . Thank you, Luca !