London is a Sad Story

I walk around in a city of stories. Some of the stories are good, some scary, some sad. However, now in the year 2009, I venture around this city, thinking of the people, and the buildings, and the spaces that once existed here. Most no longer do.

Sometimes you can feel the ghostly presence of even a building that once use to exist here, and sometimes you can't seem to feel anything other than the shifting in the air as people pass by. None of them existed during the times of fire and bombings so why should they let it bother them. They'll hastily continue on their way to the office or the bank with their business wear on. They'll walk the same streets where street walkers once searched for business, or entire families searched for one night of shelter just to be able to wake up the next morning and ask "Is St. Paul's still standing?."

Well, just as the pale green dome could be seen over the clearing smoke, It stand still today, peering over a clearing of cement, brick, and the rusty brown metals of a modern metropolitan built around it throughout past decades. As the city is rebuild, it's begins a new story, it becomes a new place, and shelters new generations. The remains of the dead are removed and put to rest and most of the ruins are paved over. Stories are passed down to become history and eventually legend. Most of the bad disappears with time.