With respect to

 With respect to. The forbidden streets. They already carry the time of the absurd beyond what is admissible. The streets look like letters, names that do not appear in the illogical personal dictionary. They drift away until they become tiny visible names. As if they were going to another world. Only the questions remain that the conscience barely hears. Almost nameless. They go they go motionless. So imperceptible that its distance is not noticeable. The squares and rectangles of the windows are deformed. The streets narrow to the horizon, as in a silent perspective. Tiny trees like puny plants. He had already drifted away to silence. And the weak flight of birds. They hardly move the air. And the light, losing its luster, looks faint pastel like water.