When I was up North once doing some work. Someone said, “You’re not still in London are you? How do you stand it?”
Without thinking and I’m going back a few years.
I told him how on one Saturday after I’d finished work at the lovely club with a heart and a positive pulse in the Elephant and-I’m full of affection for it-Castle.
After I’d said goodbye I said, I got my bike down from the upstairs room and headed for Waterloo Bridge with such a so happy smile.
I remembered that cycling over Waterloo Bridge as the morning broke helped me feel a happiness and helped me have a so special moment that I will take with me for as long as I have to face any of life’s dark corners.
As I was describing cycling up through Covent Garden and on to Dean Street for a cup of tea.
I saw the words gently flying over the head of the man who I now understood would never understand as I smiled remembering not for the last time.
Just one memory of the place that’s called home.
Called London.
pauliepaul
