London

London Past meets present meets future, Smoothed pavement meets uneven cobblestone, water filtering through the divots accumulated from consistently dull weather days, Tall buildings, cathedrals, skyscrapers, each holding different people, stories, Short buildings, flats, pubs, filled with red-faced arguments over the classification of ‘chips’ in fish and chips, Bumbling tourists getting pickpocketed on the Tube, an expat know-it-all watching from a cafe, a local haughtily observing it all as they speed-walk past, The ferry putters by, the captain repeating his script and jokes he probably now hears in his sleep from the repetition, repetition, repetition, “How can you tell the tourists from the locals? Wave and see who bothers responding,” The people on board cackle because it’s their first time hearing it, and “Oh, Mark, dear, can we please tip him a little extra? He was just too kind,” The London Eye keeps turning, blinking as the days pass, blinded by the cherry red buses that shock against the gray concrete, The cars keep left, the people who have left are replaced on the next flight over, London