By Zara Brandt
Decided to go for a walk tonight, just for the sake of it. From Bow Road to Aldgate East I look down at the pavement the whole way with my hands in my pockets. I love the way the cracks on the floor feel underneath my worn out converse shoes. Sometimes the slabs of concrete are loose and rock back and forth underneath me. I enjoy that. Almost criss-crossing from one slab to the other looking for the perfect loose one just to experience a millisecond of pure childish joy. People around me must think me to be drunk. Rush hour and the millions of Londoners are passing me by.
I allow not one of their faces to meet the eyes on my own. I keep looking to the cracks on the floor as I step, step, step. I don’t want them to see the sadness in me in this moment. I can’t bare the thought of them being able to read my loneliness today. To see the yearning in my eyes, to know that the one thing I desire the most right now is to have someone adoringly kiss me goodnight right before I turn the lamp off on my bedside table full of books. No, I can’t have them see that. And truthfully, I don’t want to see the yearning in their eyes either. I keep walking. I can’t find any more loose slabs of pavement. I get distracted anyway. The skies are starting to get darker earlier now.
All these people on High Street come from so many different corners of the world. If you planted me here not telling me which country I was in, I’d never guess it to be England. Reminds me of Toronto and suddenly makes me feel more at home. Home; what a loaded word. I’ve been searching for the feeling behind it for most my life. Living in as many houses as years I’ve been alive, it’s hard to know what a true home feels like. I’ll be thirty in a few days. Continue Reading…