It was the last time I’d walk through the parts of the city that felt most like home.
The charity shops, the betting shops and the bars were open.
Today, there weren’t any signs: it was a relaxed time in the forest.
I nodded, although at points I was barely listening.
Then I walked to the Metro station through my suburb to what my mother always ironically referred to as its “beating, pulsing heart."
I found out that our guides had cancelled a trip to nearby waterfalls because so many of us looked old and unfit.
I belong to Richmond. Can that change?
A walk on a street that wasn't made for walking.