London

The snow came, allowing the dirty city to pretend it was clean for a day.

As I walked down the street, everything was frozen, even the dog shit.

On the train, I looked out the window and saw a lemon tree, with one grimy lemon dangling from a leafless branch.

Just one.

After work the white city turned back to grey and then to black as the darkness came.

The snow melted and turned to black slush and stained peoples’ trousers.

I saw an old lady fall over.

No one went to help her, just walked past her as if she did not exist.

On the train home, the people all looked down.

Down, down, down, the weight of the city too heavy on their shoulders.

In my street, the dog shit was soft again, on my shoe.

I wiped it off on the Welcome Home mat.

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