(In honour of my time in England, and as promised, I’m writing one blog entry in my interpretation of a modern-day Jane Austen, my favorite author of all time.)
From the outset of my fortnight of solitude, showers hovered from Sussex to the City as the days stretched interminably to a close. When the rain dispatched, clouds tarried, aptly reflective of my low spirits wholly tied to my vexing separation from my beloved family. At last, in these final hours of confinement on Liverpool Street, the tempests alloyed and the summer light lingered inviting me to stroll about the cobbled streets with great felicity. Walking about from Liverpool to London Wall, I stumbled upon St. Paul’s Cathedral. I love nothing so well as auspicious and baronial works of architecture and had scarcely had a moment to take in all that recommended the City. So it was with amiable spirits I wandered around the great structure, remarking to myself how little of the landscape has changed with the passage of time. Circumspect, I envisioned the honourable men that once stood on the same ground believing God had destined them to build this hallowed place. Centuries later, I rapturously beheld the imposing domes and flying arches which stood in marked contrast to the contemporary trifling structures of home. It was with sanguine spirits I departed the Cathedral and its agreeable parks with great dispatch to reach Liverpool Street before night fell.
Bustling streets filled with sensible city-dwellers swarmed about me, everyone moving with great purpose, and I, against the tide, idled in want of one last adventure before bed. I happened upon a classic pub, which recommended itself exceedingly well with its warmth and tinkling of glasses, so I joined the widely plebeian pastime of a pint with fish and chips. Whilst some might deem it profligacy, I surmised it to be a fine and agreeable way to pass the hour. After my excursions, I returned to my bedchamber with fond affection for the City from which I had long been away. However, it was with great solicitude I anxiously sought to return to my children and husband, from whom I had scarcely ever been away, and from whom parting was vexing indeed. So I nestled in my bed, earnestly whispered my prayers, and with fondness prepared to say farewell.