Small town solitude

Leaving a storm and solitude behind, the kind of solitude you can only find in a small town where you don’t feel you belong, I made my way to London. The wish of starting a new life here was stronger than ever as we travelled though the countryside and ghost stations, however, I knew I was only going for a day and a short day at that because my legs are not what they use to be. At the age of 24, my age as I write this, I was diagnosed with the early stages of arthritis in both hips and standing or walking for long periods of time just doesn’t have the same youthful meaning to me anyone. One day I shall live in the city and hate it just as much as I hate this small town for on the outside looking in is fine it’s only on the inside you see the cracks, dust and discarded needles.

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