the breath is a metallic grating through the tunnel. all ten eyes tore
forward. the silence there was static, but active with the white noise eyes
make when strained in the night. far away, a deep clank, once. and then silence
and a answering surge in water pressure, the pipes lurching into place as the
flow hit them. the breath was fetid, the sewer water lank and thin, reeking,
with thickened movement that held boots, not letting them know what moved in the
above, a manhole lets light make translucent the water. at a far end of tunnel, a brief shard of light holds forth. to the left branches a tunnel which immediately branches into a left curve and a right straightaway.