A wait too long and a weight too heavy.

Not sure where this is going, the protaganist is a disaffected yong boy from Bradford....

It was late. Late at night in late November. It was dark, it was dismal. The only light was coming from the lonely, orange streetlights reflecting up from the puddles on the street. The uneven surface of gravel and tarmac created a kaleidoscope of orange. This was a regular autumnal, Bradford evening. In fact, this was just a regular Bradford evening. As I turned the corner I was confronted by late November sights and sounds, The dreary orange light gave way to a dramatic display of loud and obnoxious Christmas lighting. Their main crime was not how bright and unsubtle they were, rather, how out of place their particular brand of optimism and joy was when placed in this particular neighbourhood. Their incongruous nature was exacerbated by their positioning above a row of boarded up shops. A thirty foot Santa Claus promoting Coca Cola above a shop no longer able to sell it. I walked right up to the shop’s boarded window and sat down, bathed in the bright red light. I began my wait.

The End

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