the whole city seems to have quietened down.

from the library windows and the deathly silence, the grey clouds loom over the entire city, as far as i can see.
walking past george square, the hullabaloo has died down, all that is left are a few quiet old shacks, halfway dismantled.
arthur's seat is for once empty of tourists.

and maybe on royal mile, the performers are packing up.
everyone is going home.
after all, the festival is over.