The city was becoming more and more silent with each tick of the clock as London drifted deeper into the night. The warm June breeze could still be felt in the air even though it was well after midnight. Queensgate was lined with rows of homogenous white flats with arched entryways. The street was still and noiseless. Except for the house numbered 14.
Candid thoughts about life, work, travel, and more from a 20-something college student.