the neon pulse finally falters

flickering out like an exhausted heartbeat against the graying concrete of the Strip

the air, once thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the frantic electricity of a thousand slot machines, now turns cold and sharp

a sudden reminder that the desert is still here

the sun casts cloudy shadows over the tall buildings

the city holds its breath

most of the gamblers have gone to sleep

streets are swept of their silver glitter

the silence is more deafening than the music ever was