A/N: Week 5 out of the 52 week short story prompt.
London’s streets had long since lost their light and energy.
Long gone was the music, the chatter and bustle of people. No more were the streets full of sparkling eyes and brightly coloured hair, soft faces and guarded smiles. The sound of dogs barking was not heard, the roar of buses and cars were but a faint echo now, while the scream of the underground was a mere whisper in the breeze. No longer did autumn leaves litter the floor and neither did the sky shine with the golden sun, birds were no longer seen in the sky and the sound of music was a lost story from the past.
It’s quite upsetting really. Once a great city that had drawn so many people, from all over the world, from all walks of life, from all kinds of cultures and societies – it’s a dismal excuse now, lost and broken. The windows in the shops are shattered, houses are empty, cars have been stripped and the roads are cracked, caked with old rubbish and decaying bodies.
All that’s left, all that’s ever left is the old soul of a lonely wanderer, of a star gliding through the sky, like a constant reminder of what had been and what had been lost.