Blood red moon, orange skyline, white fluorescent lights flicker. The inside is reflected back as I strain to see out, arms out, covering the window, creating a small space as the blood red moon rises and we travel deeper into the city.

Bright lights, station stop, a guard stands on the platform, high vis vest over old blue suit and we nod greetings as I pass by.

Down the tunnel, down the stairs and onto the streets, chasing my blood red moon.

Across the street, 1, 2, 3 cars whiz by at speeds unseen during daylight, tourists emerge from the station, take two steps out, look left, look right, look at their maps, look at each other, turn the map around the other way, take two steps back and return into the depths of the station.

Passing bus stops and lovers kissing under sodium lights, I stride onto the bridge, clear London sky over calm Thames water, buildings lit, the City on a Sunday night and no blood red moon. Not over East, not rising, no where to be seen.

Across the bridge and past Monument station, the buildings now tower over me but the streets are deserted. A City sleeps, the trees sway in the breeze and stories of sub-prime mortgages, sudden merges and fire sales take the Sunday off (the free market, however, decides to go AWOL) … the track in my ears change and my stride changes to a strut, the hoodie goes up and the streets change …

Sterile, cold and grey becomes loud, living, jungle. The path bounces to my beat, my head bops, and the noise of traffic gives way to an MC’s rhyme. Stories, old and new, blaze into life in my head, characters shed their age or pop out of existence and suddenly I know.

We’re here now, the buildings have opened up, the paths become wider, my view of the sky bigger. Still no blood red moon but as I make the final turn past the pub where friends enjoy a final pint outside (and I remember the last pint I had outside on a street), I look up for a final time …


One Response to “1.”

  1. Nodding, nodding, also looking up

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