The Book | Michael Clifford

Page 1

11:35 A.M

I pushed through the crowd of London with alot of 'sorry's' and 'excuse me's' coming out of my mouth. Sometimes I regret moving out of New York but yet again I've loved London ever since I was a little girl and it was my dream to live in a small white apartment with the view of the London Eye at the back drop. Pfft , it's everyone's dream not only mine. Mom and dad calls me everyday to check if I'm okay , if I need extra money for the bills and blablabla. It's the same even when I lived under the same roof as my parents do , they definitely put perfection on the top and well , guess they run in my blood because I am a perfectionist.

People wouldn't consider me as a perfectionist , they would label me as a person diagnosed with OCD. But I don't think wearing a shirt with collars , bringing hand sanitizers everywhere and dusting of the furnitures everyday is an OCD thing. It's a clean slash perfectionist diagnose. "Autumn Thompson , when will you learn that not everything in this world is dirty?" I laughed at the memory of my (now) 22 years old brother named Cameron Thompson telling me that the world is not all dirty at when I was at the age of 13.

I am the most normal person in school if you know what I mean. I read books , collared shirts and going to school is what people usually call normal but now with the inventions of electronic devices and the obsessive drug addicts are what we define as normal now. "Ah Bonjour Autumn! What can I get you? " His accent was as thick as the first time I met him even after years of him spending time and socializing with British and I don't want it to change. "10 profiteroles but can you make two bags with 5 profiteroles each in it?" "Sure" "And a hot chocolate please" I smiled and he nodded his head. "$10.25" He said , he wasn't really that good in English but he has improved from when he got here 2 years ago. Handing the cash to him , he placed them in the cash register and turned his heels to make my order.

Snap ... I couldn't help but to take a picture of the deli. It was very frenchy and the smell of golden pastries and melted butter just makes me want to live in Paris but if I can't , then I'm living in this deli. It was just that irresistible. He called my name and pass me the brown paper bags with a cup of hot steaming chocolate now in my hands , we exchanged a simple Au revoir! to each other.

Usually , I would walk about 4 blocks away from my apartment to this cute restaurant called Sausex Slice but today I just want to live in Paris for the whole time I'm munching on my profiteroles with the richest chocolate drizzle on it. Plus , I've got no one to come with me. Sausex Slice is more of a group restaurant. That place is always a place filled with happiness and joy even on the gloomiest day. After the huge plate of breakfast , I or we would go to Mellisa's Homemade Chai, heaven of teas.

Today has been a good day so far , haven't spilled or dropped my hot chocolate yet which is a good sign because it's never a good idea to walk and eat/drink on busy streets and! don't wear white on chaotic days. Trust me , it happened. My head turned to my right as I heard the melody to Amy Whinehouse's song Valerie coming from the small music store. That song is beautiful and it's sad the fact that we have lost an iconic woman in our life.

Music Inn ... How could I just noticed this store when I past by this place three to four times a week? Well , you see new things everyday don't we? The scents of old vintage and the melody of Valerie was a perfect match. It's not a surprise that no one is in the store . People grew tired of old songs and vinyl records since the last century or something like that. But I never did.

Old songs are perfect you know? I don't know how on earth I got to love them but I guess I'm old school , basic and normal. The cashier boy doesn't look friendly , he doesn't even look like he wants to be here. He's not suitable for this work in my opinion. Black skinny jeans , piercings , tattoos , bleached blondie/white hair and a freaking Slipknot shirt. Slipknot not Beatles. He's the opposite of this store if you get what I mean.