I Came Back to See What Was Left

London didn’t welcome me back—it just kept standing there, tall and indifferent, as it had never noticed I’d left. The air was the colour of old breath, fog pressed between the buildings like a bruise that wouldn’t fade, and the street shone with the kind of wet that looks clean until you get close enough to smell it. I walked with my hands buried deep in my pockets, not for warmth but to hold myself together, and I tried to remember what it felt like to arrive here the first time with a heart full of stupid hope. I couldn’t. All I could feel was the city closing in the way it always had: quiet, patient, certain it would outlast me—certain it would take whatever it wanted and call it ordinary.

You can read the story here: Samantha’s London Abyss – Part 1