Serving Fitzrovia since 1066
The evening had a melancholic hue, like a jazz ballad played on a rainy night. I found myself standing in the dimly lit doorway of the church, the scent of old wood and candle wax wafting through the air. It was a place where secrets were whispered to the heavens, where souls sought solace in…
The sun’s cruel return was a stark contrast to the days of relentless rain, as if mocking my search for answers in the shadows of my own mind. Today, I had an appointment with a psychiatrist, a supposed expert in unraveling the tangled web of my so-called issues. But could they really unlock the vault…