The City Of The London Metropolis

1377 Words May 6th, 2015 6 Pages
As usual, London’s skies were grey, safely nestled in a blanket of fog with the steady patter of rain staining the umbrellas of awakening Londoners. The streets were bustling with people; there was the usual throng of corporate workers dressed in their typical black, white and grey ensemble living life through their Smartphones; there was the collection of tourists, wide eyed and eager to capture as many pieces of the city through their camera lenses as they could. Everyone in this city has a purpose, a destination, a life to continue writing with a passion and then there was him.
He lived a routine, not a life. There were no surprises, no newcomers; only the familiar companions of loneliness and silence, but he was content. He walked down the familiar streets leading to the Atlas Gallery, a quaint little photographic gallery tucked away in the heart of the London metropolis. To him, it was a safe haven of sorts, one that he had stumbled across during a rare occurrence of a shift in his usual routine. He wasn’t artistic by any means, but he loved photographs, and Grace was one that had captured his heart from the very start.
The photograph was in monochrome. A vintage candid - blown up to ten times its original size – that intrigued him, capturing his attention. A black hole against the clinical perfection of the gallery’s white walls. It was of a young woman; her eyes meeting not the lens of the camera but the face of the cameraman. Her lips captured in an inscrutable…
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