London Bridge, 1927

London, England.

1927.

She stood staring forward at the bridge that stand in front of her. The lights on each of the posts made the freshly rained pavement glisten. This sight was breathtaking, one she had only seen in dreams.

She had dreams of a city covered in lights, hustling with men and women who all had a mission in mind. As she spent her days moving in the crowds, she found city life to be such an exciting part of the world. Although this was true, she needed a breath away from the people.

At midnight she left her small apartment to venture under the street lights. The air smelt of fresh rain mixed with crisp leaves. A subtle breeze danced upon her skin, leaving goosebumps after ever touch.

This was what she had seen in her dreams. The quite streets spoke nothing but whispers. The dim lights above shown shadows of mysterious folk walking back to their homes after a long, long day. Quite laughter could be heard through windows of buildings above, people always found time for pleasure in such a moving environment.

As her eyes lay fixed upon the bridge she sworn she had seen once before, but couldn't figure out how. A man strolled near from the other side of the bridge. He stood under a lamp post, his long trench coat moved with the breeze. He looked up from under his wide brimmed hat, his blue eyes sparkled with the light of the moon.

She had never seen anything like this man before, he was tall, he had a jawline that could cut through paper. In the dead of night she could tell he was just beautiful, unlike any man she had seen in the city before. She watched him as he leaned against the lamp post he stood under. Her eyes fixed on his every move. It was no longer the bridge to take her breath away, it was him.

He caught her eye in the streaming light of the moon. He questioned why he hadn't seen such a woman before. The way her hair moved with the breeze, her red lips calling to him. Nothing before had ever made him so breathless. He tipped his hat to her as a calling card, hoping to catch the attention of the enchantress that reside in front of him.

Her heart skipped a beat. She watched his hand move to the brim of his black fedora, goosebumps from her collar bones to her finger tips erupted as he slowly tipped it down to her. She knew she went out for a reason tonight, she also knew it wasn't just to see the moon.

Just as if the stars were moving them together, they both walked forward. With each step their hearts came closer, whispering notes of love, lust, and livelihood to one another. The rush of emotion shifted the tides beneath them, water crashed along the walls, the sound of nature blocking out the city screams. Each step creating more tension between the two strangers, moving them together to create one.

She stopped as she looked up to see the man's face just centimeters away from her's. His baby blue eyes were much brighter than before, they spoke words of hope into her own eyes. The city she once saw as only a place coated in grime and the sins of it's past now held a purpose of love and prosperity.

He watched her go breathless. His eyes connected with her's. He stood face to face with the girl he had sought in his dreams, he knew he had seen those red lips before. The polka-dot scarf around her head showed safety and security. He listened to hear the skips of her heart beat, they lined up with his. He decided to move fourth, he needed to make those red lips his forever.

"Hello, love, beautiful night we have on our hands," he spoke.

His words took her to places he had never been before. She figured out why she had seen the bridge before now, it was never the bridge she meant to see. It was always the man who walked across it to meet her.

"Why, yes, it is, the stars shine very bright tonight, I've been waiting for a night like this one," she said to him.

"I agree, my dear, I've been waiting for a night like this one for a long time, love," he said to her.

He slowly curved his finger right under her chin, lifting her face ever so slightly. With a swift, unexpected motion, he landed his lips on the red ones he so desired.

The night felt complete to the two strangers who met on the bridge. The stars never aligned so perfectly with the city lights before.

The two still come to the bridge. They drop a rose for every year they love one another. Even now, 101 years later, you can still find a single red rose set under the same light post the man once stood. An endless love, starting with a bright moon, red lips, and a black fedora.