I walk up the street and the darkness of the early hours surrounds me. Flickering street lights hum among bare tree branches. Silhouettes dance across shuttered shop fronts. A fox lurks behind a phone box and noses through discarded food wrappers.
The low drone of occasional traffic ceases. For a few moments, no cars pass. Only the steady rhythm of my footsteps breaks the silence. Darkened windows gaze down upon me. Could I be the only living person left?
London briefly raises her veil and I see her true face. Centuries of history dance in her eyes, a knowing smile playing about her lips. The blood, sweat and tears of millions roll down her pock-marked face. The city is mine.
A motorbike roars past and tears open the night as it scatters fallen leaves in its noisy wake. Their dry whispering tries to tell me something, but the illusion is broken.
I am just another citizen walking home at 4am.
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Awesome mood in this. Even in a huge city, you can feel like the last person on Earth. I like the face that appears so briefly.
I’m fond of it 🙂
Lovely descriptive and thoughtful voice in this.
Thanks!
Fantastic piece. Very atmospheric.
Thanks!
Very nice descriptive writing.
Thank you!
I love the city in the middle of the night. Doesn’t really matter what city, they all have the same face in the small hours. When it is just you and the city, you can hear her speak.
They certainly have a lot to say.
The last three sentences gave me goosebumps!
I think maybe all the cities have something in common at night.
I also adore cities in the wee hours of the morning, when everything is quiet and empty of people. I love the sounds and smells and atmosphere, and I love how you’ve described it here. I really adored the line ‘A motorbike roars past and tears open the night’, and London’s veil. Beautiful. 🙂
Thank you 🙂
I love the way you honour my city in this piece
It came to me at 4am when I was walking along Shepherd’s Bush Road!