Crossroads of Life

Chapter 1

ONE YEAR EARLIER:

I woke up to the unfamiliar noise of a busy city. I stretched and glanced over at my clock. 5:12. 5 in the stupid morning and London is already roaring with activity. I pulled my purple bedspread over my head and rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands. Oh how I missed home back in the States. JUST KIDDING.

I had just arrived in London four days ago from Louisville and I was still a little jet lagged. I’ve only gone out once aside from trips for food. I like my food.

‘Well, I’m already awake, might as well get an early start,’ I thought as I pushed the covers away and sat up indian style on my bed. I sighed as I caught a glance of my curly locks pulled into a loose ponytail in the mirror. I swung my legs off the bed, slid into my slippers, and trudged my way to the bathroom.

After I took a shower and dried my hair, I changed from my bathrobe into a turquoise sundress, brown wedges, and grabbed my satchel. I let my hair fall straight on my back. After I covered my face with a light dusting of makeup, I pushed open the door of my flat and stepped out into the hallway. I made my way to the front lobby eagerly awaiting the day ahead.

“Where are you off to today, love?” Lana the woman at the front desk asked me. She was a middle aged woman, short with brown hair always pulled back in a bun. I waved to her and she gave me a welcoming smile.

“Oh, I’m just going to wreck some more havoc on the streets again, same old, same old,” I winked. She just laughed at me as I made my way towards the door.

“Don’t get lost this time, dear,” she yelled out after me.

“One time! That was a one time thing,” I laughed. Upon my first day in London, I had taken the wrong train and ended up walking the streets until I finally had to call the only phone number I knew, which so happened to be the front desk. “I’ll never be able to live that down, will I?”

“Nope,” she chuckled as I pushed the doors open to the grey streets of the city. I stopped for a moment just to breathe in the essence of the place. It was so different from back home. Where I was from, it was like you were a bird trapped in a cage. Here, it felt like I could do anything.

I walked down the street to my left. It was around seven now and London was in full swing. I passed crowds of tourists, (hoping and praying I didn’t look too much like them) and thousands of people dressed in their work clothes, making the daily commute no doubt.

I walked about four blocks to a small cafe. The bell gave a small jingle as I walked in signaling that I had arrived. Ben, the owner, gave me a small smile as I walked over to the counter.

“What’ll it be today, love, the usual?”

“Yes please,” I nodded. Probably a little too enthusiastically. I secretly smiled at the fact that I had a “usual” and I had been here for less than a week. I grabbed my bagel with cream cheese (or “Philly” as they called it here) and coffee and sat down at a small table by the window. I pulled my notebook and pen out of my satchel and began to write a list of things I needed for my flat. I planned to find these things later in the week.

I finished my breakfast and ordered another coffee to go. I stepped out onto the London streets once more, this time with an unexpected ray of sunshine hitting my face. It was still early in the morning but the sun was beginning to rise. There were a few clouds, but not as many as is customary in London. But it was summer after all.

I walked a few blocks to the train station. After studying the map for ten minutes, I hopped on a train. I got off four stops later and found myself in the middle of a square. The girl I asked back at the station was right. This was definitely the place to shop.