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A London Night

by Charlie Alexander Beaumont 2 years ago in fiction
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A short story

Illustration by: Yevhen

The city’s tall buildings engulfed the skyline as I drive, an honour which didn’t feel like much of one in these trying times. London had fallen, at least as an economic power and the pound would get you half of your journey as the price of a ticket on the underground had risen. The blotches of colour that the sun brought at night were the only comfort and similarity that rose from the churn of the now quiet city.

If you had told me that growing up in this creative market and concrete jungle would have been a step to the heights of my everlasting life I would have told you nothing can come of such an overgrown city. However, I was wrong. This beloved global monument to finance and the arts, has never been more in jeopardy because of our ongoing triumph, we can now fall from these heights.

Illustration by: Yevhen

Driving through the South quarter of the city, past all the creative new builds and through the spiderweb of the small streets. Drive into the underground parking lot of Canary Wharf. I swipe my card against the terminal and press the silver ringlet button on the elevator. Stepping in I push my dress into my legs and pulled my leather jacket to my chin as a wind washed over me. The elevator shot to the 44th floor of Canary Wharf. Stepping out in black silhouette ankle boots across the marble floor to my apartment, I flung open the door as my bag crashed to the floor; I walked into the room my kitchen, a cutout of the living room. The to the floor windows of my apartment showing the range of colours that the sky offered, this night it was a yellowish gold. I walked through to my bedroom, I pulled off my outfit and put on a red dress with a black undercoat. A black belt to my waist and a pair of black safety pin Nappa leather sandals went on.

Illustration by: Yevhen

I pushed the back of my hair from left to right as I walked to the door. There he was, my beaut of a boyfriend. ‘Do you want to stay in tonight?’

I blushed and looked down ‘I got all dressed up’

‘I could always get you underdressed,’ he smirked.

He pinned me up against the wall of the hallway, pushing his stubble into my neck and feeling up my leg, pushing his hand down my underwear. As he did so I pulled a gun from my bag I had discard earlier and put it to the side of his head. He reached into my underwear. His face dropped, ‘You're a…’

I pulled the trigger. ‘… excellent hunter, I just got too close on this occasion. Shame I really liked you.’ I said as I pointed the gun at his lifeless corpse.

fiction

About the author

Charlie Alexander Beaumont

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