flaneur

Goodbye, Battersea



Battersea, it's been lovely. We've had some good times. You eased me into London. For two years I've explored your parks, your gardens. Your foggy mornings, your sunny afternoons, dark nights next to the river. Your derelict industries, posh quasi-Chelsea pretensions, dodgy chip shops. Your breakfast diners. Your tacky-yet-breathtaking lit bridges. Your cute joggers. Your gentification, bookshops, and train stations.

I don't know when the romance ended. It might have been the commute. The cloying happy couples, with their dogs. Somewhere along the way, I noticed you were a bit...sleepy. The action, any action, was always elsewhere.

So I've finally done it. Next week, I move to my new flat. Yes, okay. She's north of the river. I'm sorry. I wanted to stay. I really did. It's just...it's just better this way. I'll miss you. No, really. We can still be friends, right?