Stass Babitsky. The Thunderer (№ 286604)

Metropolis shook himself like a great shaggy dog. Half asleep, yawned, Baring fangs skyscrapers. Licked dark blue tongue river embankments lips, dried over night. Listened to the hungry rumbling half-empty subway cars and began to comb out fleas from tangles residential districts: vans, glistening chitinous shells, rushed to the middle of the streets, jumped, overtaking each other, but soon firmly stood in traffic and congestion.