[ There is always a momentary distraction found in the dimming of the artificial sun. His eyes are on the tall buildings across the dome, waiting for the tell-tale flickering of the projector's lights; a sign that everything was running smoothly without them attending to it.
It's that habit that has him standing in the middle of the road, tote bag hanging from his right hand even as his other rests on his brow, shielding his eyes from the glare of the lamp-post as he looks onward and away. He doesn't even hear the footsteps nearby... ]