Man lying on a wall

(Hey guys! Hope you enjoy this little story of mine! I hope to be back soon! Love ya!) 

I breathed in. The smell of cold and wet London streets reached my nostrils. I began walking down the street, the old and too familiar street. I have been walking down this exactly street every day since I moved from Ireland. I reached for my cigarettes in my front pocket, the frustration was getting to me, I mean doing every day for 20 years was tiring. I puffed the thick white smoke out of my mouth, I signed I didn't like this! I wanted adventure not working my ass off in some office. I arrived at the office faster than I thought. I sat down in the black chair and opened up my computer, seeing the dark circles under my eyes, and those damn annoying wrinkles in the computer reflection annoyed me to death. I looked like an old man in his 50's! I slammed the computer shut, this was it! The tiredness and the feeling of meaninglessness got to me.

The office went silent. This was my chance I thought, I just screamed. It was like my mind went blank, I was just so fed up with the life that I was living. I quickly took my things and ran out of the office, I laughed. I laughed so much that I couldn't breathe, it was the best thing that I've ever done in my life. I ran out of the elevator and hurried to the busy streets of London. I danced all the way home to my rundown apartment. I was soaked when I came home, I opened my briefcase. The briefcase that I've hidden all these years, this where I kept all my dream and hopes. All my hope and despair was lying in that briefcase. I did poetry and writing, but my dad didn't approve of me becoming a writer so I hid away everything, so he could be proud and happy. But he never approved of me, even though I worked hours in an office that I oh so hated. I smirked, the old man was probably twitching in his grave. His eldest son just screamed at his office and ran out laughing his arse off. I took my computer up and started writing. I wrote about the day that I finally stood up and made the wonderful decision to quit my horrible job.

I just couldn't stop again; it was like my hands were enchanted. The words spilled onto the document, at the end of the day I wrote my first novel.

The time passed by, and 10 years later I was one of the top authors. I had won 10 prices and my first work I wrote, was praised to the skies. I was now living in a bigger apartment with my beautiful wife and two kids. I was still walking down the same street every day, but I enjoyed it because I was living the dream that my dad had prevented me from living. I took in the beautiful scenery, the buildings were standing tall and proud like me. I decided to light a cigarette, I silently placed my briefcase and umbrella on the sidewalk. I gently took the blue hat that I was wearing off and placed myself on the bridge wall. I closed my eyes, as I took in the wonderful smell of London's streets. Finally enjoying my life to the fullest.