The downpour of rain was flooding London city, it was always typically wet in November and if not wet than darn cold which then, predictably herald the long winter. Where street lights stood rain fell like fireflies under spot lights above actors as they play out their scene, scurrying in wild pursuits across the boulevard in search for cover only to have the wet ground eat at the foot of their trousers.
Those with high heels were left click clacking double time behind them, threatened by the thought of their shoes breaking under the stress of it all.
Indeed if one was ever bored, an evening in a lush hotel above the wet streets of London could arouse the imagination! Beyond the hype of the West End which was so familiar to tourists, lay darker alleyways and deeper secrets, secrets kept by those living underground, hiding below only to appear on such evenings as this when the weather conditions forced a change of environment upon them.
If asked, was this another morning just like any other? I’d say not at all, not this particular morning. As the night of precipitation shifted if left the air humming in fresh mint against damp soil with puddles at every curb which were disturbed by cars as they drove past. Children in wellington boots and hooded anoraks made their way to school without concern, but unbeknown to them those from below now walked among them!
…And with them came something different, something that smelt rotten and was mapped out by a circle of yellow tape indicating a crime scene!
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