Civitas/Mora - City/Pause The city is a pause. A city between pauses. Pauses everywhere and nowhere. Pauses between buildings, between streetlights, between glances that never meet. The city is these very distances—between someone and someone, between yesterday and tomorrow, between "hello" and "goodbye." There is space here—both tight and boundless, where one can disappear. And everyone here is silence. And everyone here is pauses. Those tiny pauses that captivate us when we stop to truly listen. The city becomes an object through which we perceive the invisible—pauses measured not by time, but by space. Moments between gestures, between words, between eyes that never connect. Silence in the city is not emptiness but a particular form of existence, where every sound or action carries weight, even when nothing happens. It is a kind of magic of pauses, when you allow yourself to hear more, not just listen. And within these pauses—everything. Here lie yesterday and tomorrow, you and I, and everyone among us. These moments, when we stop running and grant ourselves permission to pause, to see, to feel, to hear, to comprehend. It is a kind of field for contemplation, for understanding oneself through everything we interact with and how we do so. It is precisely on this field of pauses that one can sense how time disintegrates into these tiny units of stillness. She—the pause—is a character: silent, sticky, omnipresent. She fills alleys, lingers between the lines of neon signs, slowly drips from rooftops… Monuments stand here as voiceless witnesses—they see everything, they remember everything, yet they remain silent. They have no voice, only a weary gaze that stares through the rain. Because what is there to say? About the city, about the distances, about how sometimes, even in a crowd, you may not meet a single soul? And the wind? It wanders alone, sometimes clinging to curtains in open windows, sometimes drifting over bridges, sometimes getting caught in telephone wires, playing a quiet melody of absence. Among all this, we can move or pause, find ourselves or forget, dissolve into the city—or let the city dissolve into us…