The city is spliced, diced, dissected on a constant basis by joggers. It’s opened up in the middle by lovers who can think of no better way to pass a romantic afternoon or late evening, safe from the gaze of the lights of the city tipping over them on either side.
But there is no cry of pain or distress, this is a peaceful operation. No blood pours from its seams. Indeed, it is a clean, dry cut which leaves no impression of uncleanliness. Those who carve open the middle of the city don’t intend to cause pain, but to breathe the pure air of the city’s central lung.
Maybe that’s why they decided to carve the city up. So that all Valencians can partake in this pacifistic ritual whilst enjoying the scar left behind.