Serving Fitzrovia since 1066
The relentless downpour outside painted the night in shades of melancholy, each raindrop tapping a mournful tune on Denver’s office window. His sanctuary, a dimly lit room smelling of stale cigarette smoke and regret, felt suffocating tonight. With a tumbler of cheap whiskey in hand, he drowned his sorrows, hoping the amber liquid could wash…
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…