It's Her Fault

Anna 

London was a busy city in the fall. Corporate workers hastened along the streets in a hurry to get to their workplace to finish projects before winter set in. Stores had multiple sales to clear out goods that had been sitting on the shelves all year long. Even normal people were pulled into the hustle and bustle of the city.

At night, the buzz of activity died down to some extent. No city was without its own nightlife and London was quite lively, at least more than Italy. 

With a brain heavy with thoughts, I strolled on the sidewalk of a half empty street. In my left hand was a brown paper bag containing groceries as indicated by the asparagus tips poking over the top. My strides were long and unsteady as I hurried to get to my house.

"Have you any spare change for a homeless man?" The old man by the streets asked. Although I wasn't the only one walking on the streets, I stopped and dropped a few money notes for the homeless guy.