Streetlights illuminate the cracked sidewalk, the beams too dim to meet another. Empty spaces are cast in between the spots of light, so dark you can't see your feet.
The road is empty. When did the last car roar by? You can't recall if one has. It's almost silent except for the echo of your footsteps, boots against dilapidating concrete.
Every point of contact slowly erodes the surface. You wonder how many feet, over how many years, would have to cross the concrete to wear it down to the dirt and worms beneath.
Buildings line the street. Apartment buildings, though not a single one has a light shining from a window. Some of them are under construction, flanked by wooden scaffolding and big stained vinyl sheets.
It wouldn't be surprising if half these apartments were vacant, anyway. Rent has been rising, and this is a college town. Not many people stick around.