City of a Thousand Thorns
Under the Jirasek bridge lives a homeless man. He fishes in the great Vlatava river, hauling freshwater trout onto the bank, and when he has enough he reaches down and bites the head from his finest wriggling catch. In the Grove Autoshop a man with burnt-peroxide hair touches one oily finger to the underside of the car he is working on. The metal knits together. The ignition clicks and it starts to turn over nicely. He smiles.
Prague has a thousand dark corners in which to hide, but even those who are looking cannot see those hiding in plain sight all around them. The refugees, the survivors, the lost.