London arrives the way big things do.All at once and completely unbothered by the fact that you thought you were ready.The apartment Helena arranged for us is in Shoreditch... top floor, floor to ceiling windows that make the city feel like something you are inside of rather than looking at. It is bigger than I expected and newer than I would have chosen for myself and it smells like fresh paint and possibility and the particular blank page quality of a space that has not been lived in yet.We stand in the middle of it with our bags at our feet."Well," I say."Well," Rhys says.I walk to the window.London is doing its thing below us, grey and enormous and completely indifferent to two people from somewhere smaller standing in a new apartment trying to decide how they feel about everything.I feel good.I feel genuinely, solidly, completely good."It needs things," I say. "Plants. Books on actual shelves. Something on the walls that we chose rather than something that came with the
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