Londoners (Part 7)


I’m wondering who will I be, if I wasn’t a Londoner, thought Annemerel, while commuting again to the office. It was early morning, even though the street lights were still on and the darkness wasn’t gone yet. She had been living in the city since she was born, the capital was her comfort zone, no city could ever be compared to London. A lot was going on in her mind. Adam was finally in prison. John had stopped texting her, as she had never answered him. Her family was shocked after they got to know the truth, her mother was even begging her to move back to her old house, in Notting Hill. But she couldn’t. Her life was there, in Euston, maybe it wasn’t as scenic as Notting Hill, not even as beautiful, but that was home. That was her life.

She had an interview for the Metro and then had to write an article for the Evening Standard. The office work took her all day, so she was late for the run at Nike Town and they had already gone.

She went for a lonely run and ended up in Holborn, at King’s College. It was so nostalgic to see everything had changed at her old university. She felt like one of the writers in the portraits on the wall: old and useless.

Mi domando chi sarei, se non fossi una londinese, pensò Annemerel, mentre si avviava di nuovo in ufficio. Era mattina presto, sebbene i lampioni fossero ancora accesi e il buio non se ne fosse ancora andato. Aveva vissuto in città da quando era nata, la capitale era il suo posto sicuro, nessuna città poteva essere paragonata a Londra. Aveva tanti pensieri per la testa. Adam era finalmente in prigione. John aveva smesso di scriverle, visto che lei non gli aveva mai risposto. La sua famiglia era scioccata da quando aveva scoperto la verità, sua madre la stava addirittura pregando di tornare a vivere da lei, a Notting Hill. Ma lei non poteva. La sua vita era lì, a Euston. Forse non era così suggestivo e fiabesco come Notting Hill, ma quella era casa. Quella era la sua vita.

Ebbe un intervista per Metro e poi dovette scrivere un pezzo per l’Evening Standard. Il lavoro d’ufficio le occupò l’intera giornata, dunque fu in ritardo per la corsa da Nike Town e arrivò quando il gruppo era già partito.

Andò a fare una corsa solitaria e finì a Holborn, al King’s College. Era così nostalgico vedere che tutto era cambiato nella sua vecchia università. Si sentiva come uno dei ritratti degli scrittori alle pareti: vecchia e inutile.

Have A Safe Journey!

Love,

Camilla

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