I was walking once again in south bank. It was a week day late in the afternoon. Distant details were painted with darkness. The sky held the last details of the day light. I noticed London Bridge in the background. I saw a dark river crossing the bridge, hurrying to the other end. This stream was consisting of dark bullets moving close to one another. Forming a mass of darkness, highlighted by the dark yet vivid blue of the sky. These dark figures seemed like phantoms crossing the bridge trying to make it to the other end. Up the stairs I went, reaching the level of the bridge. An unsettling feeling occupied me as I was seeing only people in costumes/business suits forming this powerful mass of people flowing through the bridge. A monochrome view of people emerging from a horror movie. Color was absent. Only "phantoms" everywhere! It reminded me of Iain Sinclair's writings with all its gothic aspects referring to that place. I quickly moved away thinking over the meaning of Guy Debord's words: "human beings can see nothing around them that is not their own image; everything speaks to them of themselves. Their very landscape is alive".