The sky was grey, a hundred different shades of grey, just like you expect it from London. I looked up and smiled, because I wouldn't want it any other way. Glad about the fact that it was close to but not yet raining, I wondered what it looked like on the other side of that dark layer of clouds.
Today was an out-of-the-ordinary Sunday, and most shops around town were closed. I walked along Camden High Street and observed the unusual quiet. At the lower end, close to Mornington Crescent Station, I spotted an operating coffee shop and decided to have a cup before going home.
I've had any number of coffees in London, probably many hundreds over the course of several months, but never did I pay so much attention to every single sip. I got a nice seat and enjoyed the view. Koko was sleeping peacefully on its corner, while buses and cabs were crossing the busy junction.
Everything you do becomes something special when you do it for the last time. Just like you would notice a newly added tax on the things you buy, ordinary items of your everyday life, I have lately become very aware of the extra weight that every one of my actions suddenly carries. There's a shift in value.
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