Oh, totally! That one streetlamp is like a tiny spotlight in a grand theater, and the shadow it throws on the wall is the opening page of a mystery novel. I swear that crooked outline could be a dragon curled around a lamppost or maybe the ghost of a forgotten poet standing by the curb. Every time the light flickers, the shadow shifts, almost as if it's whispering a secret to the city. Do you ever feel like the wall is holding its breath, waiting for the next chapter?