You know that cheesy (albeit true) saying, “A place is a person”.
That day I decided to talk with London.
We’re both sitting on a park bench, staring rather hopelessly to a distant. I bet we look like idiots.
We hear the sounds of police cars. Ambulance? or was it fire engines? You know what, whatever.
After that familiar ear-splitting siren, there comes the void.
The silence goes on for minutes.
And he cut the silence, not breaking eye contact to the streets we’ve been staring at, “It’s not working, is it?”
Well, I don’t know. You tell me.
“You were sobbing like crazy when you left”
Yeah I know.
“Boy, that was quite a show you put up for those tourists passing through Westminster”, he chuckled
Oh shut up, I chuckled
Our laughter stops and he carries on, “You made me a promise to come back”
Yeah I did
“You did come back. You must have liked me that much to go through all this”
Bold of you to assume, but yeah, kind of, I smiled.
“Then what’s going on here?”
You changed.
“I don’t change. I went through a tough time”
So did I. It’s not a contest.
“Well then you changed”
….Yeah, I guess we changed.
And there it is, another long silence.
“You could use a cup of coffee”
..Coffee sounds nice
