In and around the environs of Liverpool Street Station.

A small, straggly group of people, three couples, fresh from the pub.  One man, bearing a carrier bag containing a bottle, stops and looks at it in dismay - clearly there was something else there that he's dropped or left somewhere.  He and his partner start back to look, all uncoordinated limbs and ineffective motion.  The rest of the group press on towards the station.  Halfway across the road, another man turns, and bellows down the length of Appold Street, "ARE YOU GUYS GETTING ANY DRUGS?"

Halfway along the tunnel under Sun Street Passage, all not-quite-stainless steel and concrete, some luggage - a case, some smaller bags, strapped to a small wheeled trolley.  Beside it, on two flattened pieces of ancient brown cardboard box, a thin, weathered man in unremarkable clothes performs yoga, his face clenched in concentration.

Walking north along Curtain Road, two men, perhaps 40ish, side by side, one pulling a small wheeled suitcase.  Dark suits, expensive, beautifully cut coats.  "City types", deep in conversation about investments.  Holding hands.  Not people I would instinctively warm to, but together like, that, they are beautiful.